


Life After Truth

by skydark



Series: The Adventures of Roy Mustang: Sex Ed Teacher [3]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: M/M, Roy/Ed - Freeform, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-01-24
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-15 01:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 55,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skydark/pseuds/skydark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to The Adventures of Roy Mustang: Sex Ed Teacher and Better Living Through Alchemy. Ambition takes on a life of it's own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It seemed like he was only 15 for a moment. That everything that shaped what he was came at him in one non-ending rush and he had to hurry through just to make ends meet.

He'd always wanted him to make the discoveries, have the life that was snatched from him. He'd always wanted to provide him with a _life_ , not just an existence.

According to Ed he was doing fairly well.

The professor, now in his third year at the academy, was worrying though his intermediate class and interviewing candidates to take over the beginners class that he was leaving behind.

It made him all kinds of manic and stressed and beautiful.

“You'll be a tenured head of a department in ten years,” the general told him and the professor's eyes had widened and his mouth had drawn down.

“Don't wish that on me,” he cried, trapped behind his desk by the very essay assignments he had assigned in the first place, “I'm not in this to be an administrator!”

“Oh ho ho,” the general countered, “You think not? Well I have news for you Professor Elric; there is nothing like someone who is good at his job. People like to foist all the responsibility onto competent people rather than having to try and brow beat the slackers among them into doing a better job.”

“Well they slipped up on you,” Ed said with a twist of his lip. “You are the ultimate in slacker advancement.”

“It's my dashing good looks and winning personality,” Roy said, with a flick of his bangs. “If you had better people skills you wouldn't have to be so smart.”

“Looks won't save you from my obvious manly physique that would stomp you into a greasy spot,” Ed growled in return.

“Oh but they will,” Roy purred. “All I have to do is the sad face; you fold like a napkin.”

“Fuck you,” Ed grumbled. “Get out, I'm trying to work, I don't have time to be admiring you right now.”

“Oh, the burdens of beauty,” Roy sighed and sauntered into the living room before he was asked to help grade papers.

**

General Mustang's office was the hang out. Everyone seemed to find their way there at any given point of the day, for not particular reason usually, just to be there. It was a habit, one no one seemed inclined to break no matter what the assignment or where they had moved in the ranks.

A frequent visitor was a newly reassigned and relocated Colonel Hawkeye. Fresh from the east with new husband in tow, she'd managed to get herself reassigned to the building she'd left in order to find better things. Roy knew better, Roy knew that Riza's new husband would prefer to be near his brother, who happened to be Roy's husband _(or something like that)_ , and so she'd pulled some strings and favors and here she was again. Roy was not displeased at her presence, but displeased at her rebuff of having herself once again on his staff.

“I passed the torch of babysitting to Havoc, you see,” she informed him briskly. “Al wants you and Ed to come for dinner on Sunday,” she delivered in the same tone. “I won't be cooking,” she reassured him to make the invitation more appealing.

“I see, I'm good enough to have dinner with but not good enough to work for,” the general sniffed.

“I'll tell Alphonse I extended the invitation, he expects you at seven sharp,” the colonel continued.

“My god woman, have you no sense of nostalgia? Can't you see that we made a crack team? If you would just come back to my staff I promise to sign everything you give me...eventually,” the general wheedled.

“You needn't bring anything, unless you feel you must. You have good taste in wine, so if you bring something, bring some wine,” the colonel informed him.

“I could let you set your own hours,” the general said, shifting things around on his desk, “I'll let you pick your own assistant.”

“Tell Edward not to forget to bring back the books he borrowed. Alphonse gets twitchy when he knows Edward has something on loan and he fails to bring it back at his next visit,” the colonel continued.

“All right, I see that you are forcing me into concessions I wouldn't make in normal circumstances,” the general blustered. “If you come back to my staff I'll give you your own office and not make you sit in here with me and the others. I can turn one of them into a messenger and just have him run notes back and forth all day, or I could get you an office with your own phone and then I could just call you when I needed to and you could come over here. What about, instead of an office I get you one of those screens and we set your desk up behind that and you can still have a phone and when I call you then you wouldn't have so far to walk.”

“See you Sunday,” the colonel said and turned on her heel and marched out of his office.

“Wait! I can throw in your own filing cabinets,” the general called after her, but it was to late, she was gone.

**

They would be 15 in a moment. They were just on the cusp. Next year they would be the advanced class and after that they would be gone from his influence. All he had left was this time he'd been granted before graduation showed them the path beyond and the opportunity to make of themselves what they would. It seemed an enormous responsibility, even for one who'd already lived a lifetime of responsibility before his lifetime was even half over.

He'd been crowded into a little office down the hall he suspected was once a broom closet. No so much for it's size but for the many, many 'coat hooks' on the wall. Why he needed an office as beyond him, but the Dean has insisted and the more the Dean insisted the more the 'administrator' conversation he'd had with Roy came to mind.

He didn't want to be an administrator, and yet here he was, cramped at a desk with barely enough room to move the chair back and forth and a bookshelf that almost kept the door from closing and a filing cabinet that seemed to defy the laws of physics by existing against the wall as it did. How they got it into this place, Ed would never know. There wasn't really any room for anyone else to be in it at the same time Ed was in it, so there was no chair for visitors and in fact, visitors had to relegate themselves to being framed in the doorway. It had an dramatic, if uncomfortable impact on any conversation, Ed hunched at a desk, looking up at the imposing figure in the doorway. Even if it was only one of his students.

“I'm insulted, on your behalf of course,” Seth sniffed, adjusting his glasses. “This isn't a proper office. Coach Taylor has a couch in his office and you are a million times the teacher he even dreams of being. I should complain to the Dean.”

“No, no,” Ed said, hunched over his desk, his schedule book open and jammed against his in-box, “don't make any waves on my behalf. Truth be told I don't want an office. I can grade papers just fine at home. I prefer doing it at home. The only reason I have an office is to make appointments with students who need help after class. I try to make class so implicitly self-explanatory that there should be no need for this.” Ed glanced at his schedule book. “So, if you want to make an appointment to see me after class, I can pencil you in.”

“Really? I can do that?” Seth asked. Why Seth would even consider this puzzled Ed. Seth was one of his brightest students, a self motivated natural as it were with a logical lean. There was absolutely no reason for Seth to need any additional guidance other than what Ed presented in class. Because Ed was just good like that, none of his students should need any help because he'd turned them all into magnificent little knowledge sponges. Yes he had.

“Well, what about tomorrow?” Seth ventured.

“Ok,” Ed said slowly, “what is it you want to talk about?”

“I don't really know,” Seth said, pulling his lip. “Maybe about the assessment at the end of the semester.”

Ed called finals 'assessments.” He figured it was a good lead in to those among his students who took the practice of Alchemy seriously enough to pursue it beyond school. Since the number one employer of alchemists was the military, it would be good to go ahead and know the terms before hand.

“I thought you had your assessment already planned out,” Ed said. “In fact, I know you have, you turned in an outline, although it wasn't really assigned...yet. It's a good outline and I told you that it was a sound theory so I'm not sure why you want to go over it.”

“Ok,” Seth said, trying again, “what about next semester's topics? I'd like to get a heads up on what to expect so maybe I can read up over break.”

Ed himself didn't even know what next semester's topics would be; he sort of taught like he practiced alchemy to begin with; by the seat of his pants. But to cover up the fact he hadn't thought that far ahead he said: “No, I'd rather not have you getting any misconceptions about the material by reading unassigned books. When you have a grasp on the material presented to you, then you can go do research on your own.”

There, that sounded professional and teacherly, he was sure of it.

“Well, I guess I don't really need an appointment,” Seth admitted. “You are pretty thorough in class.”

Ed sat up straighter in his chair. “Yes, I know,” he said proudly.

Daniel chose then to squeeze in, managing to slip past Seth and tower over Ed directly at his desk. In the past year Daniel had added several inches and Ed found himself eye to eye with the boy's chin more and more these days.

“What the hell? They gave you the broom closet?” Daniel asked, trying to scoot closer to the filing cabinet and away from a suddenly glowering professor.

“It's an office, it's not open for discussion, I'm not planning on being in here that much as it is,” Ed said, but refrained from waving his hands around because there was simply no room.

“I don't get it, why would you put up with this?” Daniel said, trying to lean against the filing cabinets but the handles of the drawers made it impossible without risking spine damage.

“I'm not putting up with anything,” Ed said, putting his elbow on the desk and resting his chin in his palm. “Having an office does nothing to reflect on my ability as a teacher. Having an office means having extra space to store my junk. It literally has no symbolism to me. What I get out of this job I get in the classroom, in the actual environment of teaching. This,” he gestured around the small room, “isn't what teaching is about. Does Taylor really have a couch in his office?”

“Yeah,” Seth said, nodding and leaning on the door jamb. “He takes naps on it.”

“Case in point,” Ed said, gesturing at Seth and looking at Daniel.

“It's disrespectful,” Daniel further groused, then raised his eyebrow when Ed and Seth looked at him. “What?” he asked.

“This space does something to the brain,” Seth said, “it's making Daniel say things I'd never thought I'd hear him say.”

“Oh come on, I know you're thinking it,” Daniel said. “Look, he won't stick up for himself half the time and that's part of why we have that club you know.”

“Wait, what?” Ed said, sitting up in the chair. “What do you mean?”

“We modified the club bylines a bit,” Seth said, reaching up to push at the bridge of his glasses and giving Daniel a 'look'. “It's just a little paragraph about how we want to watch out for your best interests.”

“There will be no sticking up for me, here or otherwise. You guys seem to forget I'm the adult,” Ed said, feeling strange and warm. “I have been taking care of myself since I was younger than both of you, myself _and_ my brother. I got a pretty good grasp of how to do it by now.”

“I'm not saying you aren't capable,” Seth placated, “But you have odd priorities sometimes. You're one of the best, no wait, you probably are the best, teacher in this school and this is how the school thanks you. It's not right Professor, that's all, and we're baffled by how you don't see that.”

“You just have to learn that things like honor and respect come from the people you care about,” Ed said, mouth tilting up on one side. “As long as you get that, then the other stuff is just peripheral. Maybe I don't consider the school politics worthy of my time. I don't play the game like they want me to, my priority here is you guys. That's all I'm worried about. Ok?”

“If you say so,” Daniel sniffed and Seth had a pleased flush to his cheeks.

“Ok, I gotta go,” Ed said, standing and then negotiating with Daniel for what little standing room there actually was. “It's Al's first day at his new job and I promised I'd drop by and see him. So if neither of you have any pressing matters that requires my attention here in my office, I'll be on my way.”

Seth backed into the hall to allow Ed to come out and Daniel followed after, pulling the door shut behind him.

“Say hi to Al for me,” Seth said and Ed shrugged on his coat and gave them a raised hand and headed down the hall.

**

Alphonse Elric had landed a prestigious job with a prestigious firm on a prestigious street in a prestigious locale in Central. Ed, dressed as he usually was on school days in his vest and tie and tweed almost felt under dressed just walking into the building where Al worked. It was an architectural firm and they had caught wind of Alphonse while he was free-lancing in the growing construction-via-alchemy field. Al's assistant greeted him, offered him a choice of beverage, had him sit in a comfy chair while she telephoned Alphonse who was in his office behind a shut door not three feet away to see if it was alright for Edward to pay a visit. She then escorted Ed the three feet, opened the door for him, ushered him inside and asked if there was anything at all she could do for them. Al jumped hastily to his feet when Ed came in, awkwardly assured her he was fine and she smiled pleasantly and withdrew, shutting the door behind her and leaving the brothers alone.

The both stood and stared at each other for a moment before Al broke into a grin and said: “Check this out!”

He went to count the windows in his corner office for Ed. There were six. He annunciated each number loudly and touched the pane of each one. Then he ran over and flopped down on the big leather sofa in the sitting area in his office. Then he got back up, came back to his desk and practically laid over the top of it.

“It has a leather top,” Al moaned. “Come and feel it, it's incredible. See? It's got gold etching around the sides.”

“Does Riza know you're making love to your desk?” Ed said, amused.

“Riza hasn't visited the office yet, seeing as how this is my first day,” Al said. “But I have ideas, oh the ideas.”

“Ok, that's enough,” Ed said, walking over to look at the desk. “I know that I should encourage these ideas and maybe I'll get a niece or nephew from the bargain and carry on the good name of Elric, but you know, it's _Riza_ and that... I can't handle that right now. Forgive me.”

“Oh the irony,” Al said. “You can just imagine what went through my mind when Roy was still a Colonel and you still rubbed on all the corners in our room.”

“Shut up,” Ed said tightly , then reached down to touch the top of Al's leather desk.

“When you create an alchemy department at the academy, which you're definitely on the way already making an intermediate class, then you will have an office and a desk...,” Al said, hands flat on his own desk, leaning toward his older brother.

“Stop right there!” Ed said. “First off, I have an office thank you very much. It's not as big or extravagant, but you know, really I have Roy's office, too. That counts, it does, I work in there, I _worked_ in there when I was in the military. It's like a big shared communal office, so it counts. And a the risk of repeating myself I won't, so lay off the advancing the ladder crap.”

Al gave a half smile, then sat hard in his high backed leather swivel chair and slouched in it, wiggling his eyebrow at Ed.

“Oh, good impression, you've had a good teacher for that,” Ed said with a grin. “If you do that and Riza is here to you'd have it perfect.”

“You coming over for dinner on Sunday?” Al asked.

“Have you ever known me to turn my nose up at free food?” Ed countered. They did this for a bit. This small talk and chatter that was so comfortable between them, then Ed left Al to his new profession and made his way back to headquarters and an office even bigger than Alphonse's; with a _marble_ topped desk to boot.

**

“I could have sworn,” Roy said, for the third time, sitting at his desk at home, just across from Ed. He shuffled papers much the way he did in his day to day life in the office and opened and closed his top desk drawer three or four times. “Ed, did you...?” he started but Ed caught him.

“I did not, and I know what you are going to ask me,” Ed said. “You do the bills, you seem to consider it your job. The bills and checking the mail. I don't know why you get that little twitch at the corner of your mouth when I handle the mail, but you do, so I decided to just let you do it. So, sorry, I don't know where your woefully misfiled piece of paper is, not matter what it is, I don't do the bills _or_ the mail.”

“Alright,” Roy said, not turning around, “just checking.”

“What are we doing this weekend other than eating at Al's house,” Ed asked, putting his elbow on his desk and his chin in his palm. “Are we doing anything Saturday or are we staying in? I'm thinking I'd like to go out, but we can't go out out because we have to be at Al's the next day and be fairly sociable, so what is there to do other than go out out on a Saturday?”

“I'm sure I could find someway to occupy you,” Roy said in a manner that made Ed curl his toes in his slippers. “I don't think we've had a day of bed in a long time, we've been to busy. We could get a lot of junk food and carry the phonograph into the bedroom.”

“Ummm, junk food,” Ed sighed.

“I see your priorities,” the general said, turning in his chair and giving Ed a grin, “we've been married to long.”

“I doubt it, I think forever isn't long enough to be married to you,” Ed said, leaning forward on his palm and letting his eyes go half mast. “My priorities these days are amazingly, deliciously, incredibly mundane and I want to keep them that way. Not to say you're mundane,” and Ed made kissy lips at the general.

“I'm so happy not to be on the mundane list,” the general grinned. “I wouldn't like to think I'm losing it or anything.”

“You will never lose it,” Ed assured him. “Even when we are old and feeble and I have to push you in a wheelchair you will still have it. “

Roy was about to say something that was probably just a smug retort about how he'd always suspected he would be the sexist man on the planet when R.D. came trotting in from his ventures in the back yard. He went to Roy's feet and hopped up and down until Roy pushed back in his chair enough so R.D. could hop up into his lap. The R.D. put his paws on Roy's desk and inspected the papers laying there.

“I see R.D. is privy to the mail,” Ed said, tapping his pen on the desk. “My pecking order in this house has been established.”

“I'm sorry Ed,” Roy soothed, rubbing R.D.'s ears, “but he's got such a glib style of correspondence, you understand.”

Ed returned to grading his own papers, R.D.'s input not required.

**

Ed dashed up the walk like he was five and Roy grinned and watched him go. He sauntered after him, bottle of fine wine tucked firmly under his arm and hands in his pocket. Ed both rang the doorbell and used the knocker then tried to peek in the little side window beside the front door.

The door flew open and Al shouted, “Ed!” and Ed shouted, “Al!” then half tackled his brother and they staggered in through the foyer. By the time Roy got there Al had Ed in a headlock. He managed to make it by the wrestling Elrics without mishap and found Riza standing in the kitchen doorway all ready to accept his bottle of wine.

The true adults among the quartet decided to have some of the wine to help them deal with what seemed to be the quasi-adults wrestling in the living room. They'd finished off half the bottle sitting at the small breakfast nook table talking shop when the latter two joined them, one immediately horning in on the general's wine glass and the other hastening to fetch two clean ones. The minor squabble over Roy's booze ended when Al waved a wine glass under Ed's nose and then Al took the seat next to Riza and Ed sat on Roy's knees making Roy grunt.

“What did you make me?” Ed said with an easy, relaxed smile and a big gulp of wine. “I hope since I'm company now I get something fancy. I wasn't company before, but now I'm company.”

“You're still not company,” Al returned good naturedly. “But I tried to make you something fancy, I hope you like it. It's called spaghetti carbonara. It has bacon in it,” Al hastened to add at Ed's look.

“Al read many variations of the recipe,” Riza said in a tone that suggested Ed better like it, “he has come up with his own version and it is of course, beyond exception, just like everything he does.”

The Riza and Al looked at each other and Ed gulped more wine and Roy patted his back.

“Even if you don't,” Al offered, “I made a ton of garlic bread and you can just eat that,” but really, his eyes were still on Riza.

“I'm sure it will be fine,” Ed said, trying hard not to look at Al looking at Riza or at just Riza because she's probably make the scary face at him for suggesting his brother's cooking was anything less than perfection, “you know me, I'll eat just about anything.”

“I can't wait to try it,” Roy said with a slight purr to his voice, “I really enjoy new culinary experiences, especially anything pertaining to noodles. I eat a lot of noodles, variety is nice.”

“That is a dig at me you suck up,” Ed said and realized his wine glass was empty.

Al bounced up then, slapped the table top with his palms.

“Let's eat! Come help me Ed! You can carry some bowls,” and he dashed off into the kitchen proper. Ed got up to charge after him.

“Do we need odds on whether or not this meal will make it to the table,” Roy asked, standing as well and snagging the wine bottle.

“Al's enthusiasm is only unmanageable around Edward,” Riza said, gathering up the excess wine glasses. “But I still have faith he can enforce the calm on Ed he use to in his youth, it will be fine.”

They all sat down at the big table in the dining room for the meal. Riza brought out some of the house wine to supplement the nearly empty bottle of wine Roy had brought. There wasn't much talk at first because everyone was eating. Carbonara, while not meat sauce, was almost as good, Ed informed Al after his third helping. Then there was a minor debate about it since technically carbonara had meat in it, but not crumbled up meat, like meat sauce normally had; so, really it _was_ meat sauce. But since it wasn't as much meat to sauce it was like the poorer cousin of meat sauce...maybe it was the poor man's meat sauce. Ed quizzed Al about the many variant names given to the same dish, but poor man's sauce didn't seem to be among them. They both pondered.

“Can we please get off the meat sauce discussion,” the general finally begged. “I think Riza is asleep.”

Riza jerked then, blinked rapidly. “No, I'm fine,” she said in a bit of a daze.

“Like talking mobilization isn't any more snore inducing,” Ed groused, but let himself be steered away before any more meat sauce discussion ensued. “So what is it you want to talk about?”

“I don't know, many and various topics, there is a plethora to choose from. Alphonse how is your new job? Your brother only drooled over your desk and really didn't say much else.”

“I did NOT,” Ed said, cheeks red. “I was only using it as an example to point out the superiority of your own desk, oh you traitor, see if I tell you anything ever again,” Ed huffed.

“He should drool over my desk, and while your desk could be implied as fancier General, my desk is much more inviting. I would say that would advance me more in my position as I am there to make the clients very happy and being inviting invites happiness, right?” Al stuck his nose in the air.

“I guess,” Roy got out before Riza spoke up.

“The General's desk lends him an air of authority so often needed. Although, when the occasion calls for it, the General can and will exert all authority necessary to a situation, in his own office he tends to be lackadaisical in the dolling out of authority. I've tried to wrap my head around it many times, I just don't understand. So the General needs an imposing desk in his office to at least help him be authoritative even as he slacks.”

“Thank you, Colonel,” Roy managed to get out before Ed spoke up.

“Roy deserves a bigger, badder desk because he's been around a lot longer and it's a sign of respect. I realize I have only been teaching at the academy for two years, so my desk is just a wooden teachers desk, but that's fine! That is what I have worked up to so far, and really, it doesn't matter because I'm there to be a teacher and having a teachers desk is just fine! My office isn't very big either, but I don't need a big office, what would I do in it? I need to be out in front of the students teaching which is what I'm there to do, not sitting in that converted broom closet with a desk with wobbly leg. I don't even know what to do when I'm in there. No one can really squeeze in there with me, it's about this big,” and Ed demonstrated with his hands. “But that's ok, I don't need all that space like the two important people here do, I mean all I do is teach alchemy to the future leaders of this country, that's all. I don't command midnight raids or decided where to put the bathroom on a floorplan. My desk is just fine the way it is,” then Ed folded his arms across his chest.

“I'll speak to the Dean,” Roy offered.

“I'll design you a new office,” Al said, trying not to sniffle.

“No, it's fine!” Ed said, turning to study the wall on the other side of the dining room.

“Let's have dessert,” Riza said, blinking awake again.

**

It was getting late when Roy started tugging Ed toward the foyer. Riza sort of shoved him along while keeping Al from clinging to his brother's arm and they even managed to get out to the walk.

“Bye Al,” Ed said mournfully. Leaning toward his brother since Roy was tugging him back.

“Bye Ed,” Al said in a like fashion. He was being half blocked by his wife, but he sort of hung on the door jamb in sorrow.

“It's not like you won't see him tomorrow, or five times this week,” Roy said. “It's like trying to separate playing toddlers,” and he looked to Riza for sympathy.

But Riza seem to have her own method, she bent over and said something very softly in Al's ear and Al stood stalk still for a moment, then became of flurry of movement.

“The General is right, I live here now, see you later,” and Al shut the door in Ed's face.

“Isn't love grand?” the general said behind him.

**

He lay behind Ed, nose touching the crown of his head. Ed was hugging a pillow and whistle snoring softly and he didn't know his lover was lying behind him awake, marveling at the creature that was himself there with the general in bed.

Ed could be so much more than a teacher. It wasn't as if Ed wasn't making a difference, he was, and when this role was first presented, no matter what the original intentions of it might be, it was _perfect_ for Ed. But that was then and this was...this was not then.

Ed could be his catalyst, his foot in the door to where it truly needed to go. Did they think just because he'd lost the prime minister race he'd lost all the ambition that drove him to it in the first place? But see, no one was interested in Roy's ambition anymore, so he had to find a new outlet. Power was still power, overt or subtle, and things didn't need to be out in the open to be controlled. He ran his hand down Ed's side and Ed sighed softly, gnawed his pillow a bit and curled up some more.

Roy knew that Ed was happy. Happy and content in his life; and maybe that should stay his hand.

But Ed could be so much more.

If only he would see.

So much more than he was right now, he could have power and control, Roy could show him how this was done. Politics had their own seduction, ambition had it's own addiction. Ed could see because Roy could show him. Could show him all he could be.

Because Ed could be so much more.

Ed could be Roy's power, his ambition, his ruler.

And with Ed, Roy could still rule the nation.

He ground the ball of his hand over his left eye and tried to vanish these thoughts, the ones that only came at night. The eye beneath his hand seemed to throb.

He looked at Ed again. Ed who was happy. Ed who deserved to be happy. Then he threw himself hard over on his side facing away from Ed and hoped tonight, he would not dream.

  



	2. Chapter 2

The first thing you do is look for the weakest link.

The two best opportunities are either a man with a secret or a man with a past.

Fortunately the military was ripe for this type of individual. If you got in, as long as you obeyed the rules, you had an impermeable wall called the state built all around you and the troubles of the past were not allowed entrance.

And if you do break the rules? Don't get caught. At least don't get caught by anyone with _rank._ That was the biggest threat. And especially not anyone with rank who is _looking_ to find someone with a secret or a past.

Corporal Morgan had a past and he had a secret.

He sat nervously in a bench in the hall, twisting his cloth cap between his hands. He glanced up at passersby, feeling like a naughty fifth grader waiting to see the principal. The door to his left opened abruptly and there was a clearing of the throat and he jumped to his feet, but before he could snap out his salute the brisk nod of the other man's head gestured for him to come inside.

He shuffled forward nervously, slunk into the doorway and was pushed further inside by the man holding the door knob's snort. Then the man withdrew abruptly, and the door shutting behind him sounded in Morgan's mind like the slamming of a dungeon door, like in the movies.

The man at the other end of the office pointed to a chair in front of his desk and said: “Sit” in a tone that brooked no discussion, so Morgan scurried forward and parked his butt in the leather arm chair there and fisted his hands on his knees.

The first moments of silence stretched into minutes as he sat there, watching the man at the desk leaf page by page though a large brown folder. The man would pause every now and again and tap a pen against the sheafs of paper before continuing on.

“I'm not very impressed with what I'm seeing here,” the man behind the desk said flatly. “For someone with a commission to lose, you would think you'd have a better record. Do you have a temper, Corporal Morgan?”

“A...a bit of one, sir,” Morgan stammered, reaching up to scratch at his collar. “I've been working on it and I've talked to the counselors, sir.”

“They seem equally unimpressed,” the man behind the desk sighed. He laid the pencil on the papers and leaned back in his chair and put his elbows on the armrests. Then he laced his fingers in front of himself and he looked at Morgan. He looked at him as if he were trying to count the follicles in Morgan's receding hairline, or the pores in his skin. He looked at Morgan as if somehow, there in plain view, was a written record of every questionable thing Morgan had ever done tattooed on his skin. His eyes traveled the contour of Morgan's throat and Morgan could _feel_ it; likened it to the crawl of sweat beads and gnats that clung to you when you worked too long in the sun. He shifted in his seat and the man raised his eyebrows, but his eyes stayed steady and his mouth stayed flat.

“Is there any reason not to drum you right on out of service and let you go home?” the man behind the desk said, leaning back in his chair.

There were plenty of reasons why Morgan didn't want to go home.

“I don't really see why we need to keep you in the line of service,” the man continued, looking off for a moment at a picture on the wall to his left, “but from what I've read and been able to find out, I see every reason why you want the military's protection.”

“It's not fair,” Morgan blurted out and then tried to bite it back, but the man lifted his hand and made a roll of his fingers, like a come out with it gesture, as if he were beckoning the words from Morgan's mouth, giving them permission when Morgan wouldn't.

“Everyone at home, they don't know what really happened and they won't listen. If you send me back there it's like sending me to a lynching,” Morgan ground out. “They don't know the truth. I didn't do anything that wasn't asked for!”

The man leaned forward a moment, placed a finger onto one of the pages and drew it slowly across before looking up at Morgan again.

“So these two girls, Pamela and Janice?” the man asked.

“They're lying,” Morgan said lowly. He had learned that if he left off descriptive terms like 'whores' and 'bitches', he got more sympathy.

“I see,” the man said, leaning back into his chair again. “That's unfortunate, to be mislabeled like that, isn't it?”

“Yessir,” Morgan mumbled, ducking his head. “The recruiter said that didn't matter. He said it wouldn't come up.”

“Oh he was right,” the man behind the desk said, leaning his head back into his chair and looking at the ceiling. “If there wasn't solid evidence or a conviction then the military just glosses over the finer details. It makes for a better solider if they are more beholden to you. You see how that works, right?”

“Yessir,” Morgan said again, licking his lips and swallowing.

“As long as you function properly and you stay within the lines the military is willing to invest in any walk of life to get the job done. As a matter of fact, you can take myself as a prime example. There are many things I could rightfully say that perhaps the military shouldn't have overlooked, but here I am. And here you are, too. In a way, we're kindred.”

“Yessir,” Morgan mumbled again, not sure how he should be feeling at the moment.

“But, just because we're kindred doesn't make us equals,” the man sat forward abruptly, straightening his back and clasping his hands in front of him right on the stack of all of Morgan's sins. “Let's have a discussion now, between the two of us. And let me assure, this is between the two of us. See, there is a difference between our walks of life, Morgan. The fact you are in this office, no matter who has seen you, is only between you and me. I like loyalty, I will do what it takes to achieve loyalty. If you have one man's loyalty do you know what you have?”

“Nu...no,” Morgan croaked out.

“You have power,” the man behind the desk grinned now. A grin that stayed there where a grin was supposed to be and was completely opposite of the grin that was laughing at Morgan from his eyes. “And such loyalty is _greatly_ rewarded. If any of my people were to volunteer anything to you, the one thing they would say is that they are well compensated for turning themselves over.”

Morgan nodded slowly, confusion making his gut cold and his throat thick, he reached up to tug at his collar again.

“I will put it more simply since that is what you seem to need,” the man sighed again. “I have you. Don't you know a recruiter will say anything and everything to bring in another soul to harvest? I have all I need now to send you back to the waiting arms of a town ready to crush you. So, in the interest of self preservation you are going to work for me. In exchange I will keep you close and keep you under wraps and I will do what it takes to keep you here. You will take orders from me, you will report directly to me and there isn't a choice here, just in case you think you have one.”

The man reached into his uniform jacket and pulled out a card, he offered it, holding it between two fingers across the desk to Morgan. Morgan reached forward slowly to take it, almost afraid to touch it and definitely afraid to brush the man's fingers.

“You will take that number, you will memorize it tonight and then you will shred that card and you will burn it in an ashtray and then you will flush the ashes, are we clear?” the man said pleasantly enough.

“Crystal, sir,” Morgan said, feeling dead and trapped an as if he were at home all over again.

“Good,” the man said, settling back into a more relaxed position in his chair. “I'm glad we had this discussion. It's really not so bad, try to stop looking like a mouse facing down a cat,” and then the man smirked at his little joke. Morgan dropped his eyes and nodded, stuffing the card into his jacket pocket.

“Dismissed,” the man said with a wave of his hand. “Despite our little understanding now we can't forget all the formalities that make this legitimate.”

Morgan got to his feet, he put on his cap, then saluted. Then he turned, marched out the door, down the hall, to the barracks and to his room to huddle over the toilet and have the shakes alone.

**

Goggles and bandannas. Canvas aprons and rubber galoshes. Work gloves and paint brushes and a can of what might be referred to as dirty white paint. The Elric army had come prepared.

Ed had cleared the desk in his office of the really important things, ( _like the splinter laden in-box he would only pick up with his automail hand and a blotter that once served as a calendar five years ago_ ), and laid a piece of plastic wrap over the top of the filing cabinet, ( _not that any random splatters of paint would hurt it, they would probably fortify it so it would stay together another few months_ ).

“Can't we just do this with alchemy?” Daniel complained. “I wanted to see you toss the bucket in the air and clap your hands and then it would just be done. I didn't sign up for the goon patrol or want to wear its uniform.”

“If you can do something with your hands...,” Seth started, “then you should just do it,” he and Ed finished together, and then they both nodded and Daniel groaned.

“I never even knew Izumi Curtis and she rules my life,” Daniel further complained.

“Besides, all the paint tossing with alchemy is Al's department,” Ed said. “I'm not as talented in the building materials department of alchemy, and I don't want to be.” Ed held up his finger. “I have done plenty of home projects and the General has only had to fix a few behind me, I mean help me, and I have the painting thing down pat now. Besides, don't you remember when we painted the class room? The old class room? It's still there, I see it when I go in there to make sure the beginners class isn't being fucked up, I mean taught properly!” Ed threw his hands in the air. “Obviously the fumes are already getting to me, so the faster we smear this on the walls, the sooner we can go!”

Daniel grumbled and got the pan to put the paint into as Ed used his automail fingers as handy prying tools to get the lid off the paint can. Then they divided up the paint and got to work. Ed insisted on standing on his desk to paint the wall behind it and Seth took the back wall and Daniel called the two thin strips of wall beside the door. About five minutes in Duffy wandered up to the doorway and played supervisor for about three seconds before calling Ed out on the real reason he wanted to stand on the desk, ( _and yes, so that it would make him taller, there was no denying it_ ), and was fired. Eric showed up and danced back and forth like a stork with a sore neck waving a paper he wanted Ed to sign for no other good reason than Ed should sign it because he'd gotten an A on it and wanted Ed to validate it, but then it was discovered the paper was from his history class and why Ed needed to validate his good history grades was anyone's guess. So he was told he'd have to make an appointment for the next day and he stalked off in a huff to store the paper until the appointed time so it wouldn't get lost.

Then Daniel had to get on the desk with Ed to paint the places Ed still couldn't paint, even standing on the desk, and this made Ed irritable and snappy. Then the desk got snappy, too, and Ed and Daniel clung to one another abruptly at a particularly loud snap, then realized what they were doing and stepped back so hard that Ed ended up with his green vest being a duo tone, green on front, dirty white on back and Seth got flattened when Daniel fell on him.

Ed also now sported a very punk look he was informed, with his half dirty white ponytail.

“That is IT,” Ed roared. “If Al can do it, I can do it!” And he grabbed the remainder of the paint in its can, hurled it at the wall and clapped his hands.

**

Ed, in his infinite wisdom, had taken the time to study the floor plan of the school where his small office resided. Not that he cared, mind you, or that he wanted to expand it in anyway, but just as a mild curiosity when he had nothing to do but dash madly to the maintenance department before class started and ask Mr. Pine, Tom's dad, if he could have a peek. He stored all this knowledge for his later use, if he ever had a use for it, which really he didn't because he really didn't care that the space above his office was also a broom closet and the space above that was plain, flat roof with no major plumbing or electrical wiring to worry about, say if, someday someone transmuted up that far.

Well that day had come.

Daniel and Seth had never been in the center of a maelstrom of alchemy before and frankly, they never wanted to be again. They huddled there, on the floor of the professor's tiny office, hugging each other while the maniac, whom they'd mistaken for the professor earlier, leaped up into his rickety office chair and cackled insanely. Large, blue bolts of alchemy rose around him as an array burnt itself into the floor, into the walls and the very ceiling itself, juxtaposed and as beautiful as the man wielding it was terrible and they wondered if this would be the last thing they saw in their very brief lives.

To die for alchemy.

Seth at least thought it was a noble and ballad-worthy death.

“What are you DOING?!” Daniel yelled above the roar, but the professor was gone and it was if he _was_ the alchemy, there was no denying it. What they were witnessing was flesh made energy, the pouring of an entire being into a circle of conductivity and a phenomenon unlike they had ever seen or unlike they would ever seen again.

This was the Fullmetal Alchemist. Daniel tightened his grip on Seth and wondered if this is what all those people saw, the ones that tried to stand against him and this is why he was still among the living when all was said and done.

The walls around them blurred from existence; becoming liquid and light and movement and stretching upwards, groaning as they died and were reborn. The roof above them buckled and they both ducked instinctively, ready to be buried in the rubble, but the rubble never came. Instead the roof inverted itself, imploded upward, carrying its matter into the flowing stream of blue and white lightening that had once been walls and the things above screamed their death throes as they were similarly engulfed.

On the grounds below, the guard tower sounded out its warning blare as the roof of the academy spewed forth a beam of light. The hallways themselves were a swarm of evacuees, and those who would brave it to approach were blinded by the light rippling off every surface, reflective or not.

The images were too fast and too many to make out in detail as the light spun around them. There was only the sense of the vast displacement of air and the sounds of the things around them being forced into more than what they once were. There was only the feeling of incredible awe and terror, until, finally, mercifully, the light began to dim and the sounds receded until there was silence all around; almost an unnatural stillness that made the experience all the more surreal. Daniel lifted his face to look at the figure standing in the chair. It seemed, even in the hush, the professor was still moving. His hair, his clothing, the light returning from where it had erupted until he, too, seemed to fade back into reality.

He stepped down off his chair, put his fists on his hips and he looked up. Daniel nudged Seth, his eyes trailing upwards, too.

What had once been the ceiling above them was now not. It was open in the center, a square, and from the wall in front of them was a series of steps, formed right out of the wall, complete with railing leading upwards. It was if the room above was now a wrap around balcony with railings, looking down into the space below, but there was more. Pouring in was light, but this light was calm; familiar. It rained down on the boys from the sun above, but seemed filtered, as if through glass and Daniel's eyes widened as he could see the blue sky beyond.

“This bottom part,” the professor said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, “will be the waiting area and you know, extra filing cabinets. The desk and meeting area is up there,” and he pointed up. “I didn't have enough paint for all the walls, so I just added some stripes to make it more interesting and I used the sink and bench upstairs to make a desk, I think that's rather innovative myself; it will look like steel. I added all the railings, that is a must for safety concerns, but all in all, I think that pretty much gives me all the room I will ever need for an office.” He tilted his head at the two boys who were now slowly climbing to their feet. “What do you think?” he asked.

“I think,” Seth said, reaching up to adjust his glasses, “you are without doubt, the coolest person on the planet.”

“Or the craziest,” Daniel finished off, not bothering to hide the awe in his voice.

“Well I hope I get to enjoy it,” the professor said, folding his arms over his chest. “Because if that blaring siren is any indication, I'm in a world of trouble.”

**

The two sat side by side outside the dean's office. Hands tucked into their armpits, knees pulled together tight and chin down.

“I hear there is a gargoyle on the roof,” one of them said.

“That is the rumor,” said the other one.

“I think you would know,” the first one hissed, keeping his voice low.

“It was the spontaneity of the moment,” the second one said, voice equally low, “things on a roll just happen,” and he removed his hand from his armpit long enough to make a little flip with it as if to indicate how things just forge ahead despite all intentions.

“This isn't like it was back in the day where things could be glossed over in the name of the greater good,” the first one stressed again, “my god, don't you think about these things before you just do them?”

“I took the time to study the floor plans,” the second one stressed back, “I knew what was up there and what could be moved about.”

“But how did you know that the room was empty when you had your spasm?” the first one countered, rubbing his face with his palm. “How could you know that?”

“I did, I just _knew_ , look I would have known if anyone was there once the reaction got up there and found something I wasn't expecting,” the second one said, gesturing with his still freed hand. “I can tell what is supposed to be in the stream of matter and what isn't supposed to be there.”

“You mean once they'd been atomized?” the first one hissed again. “Is that what you mean?”

“No, and besides, there was dust five fucking inches thick, I'm pretty damn sure no one has been up there in _years_ ,” and he would have continued if the door of the dean's office hadn't opened at that time.

“Professor Elric, General Mustang,” the dean moaned, “please...please come in,” and he waved at them with a floppy hand, looking like he might faint as Roy and Ed got to their feet.

Assembled in the dean's office were many people. Some looked puzzled, some looked angry, some looked frightened, and at least one of them looked smug. The dean pointed at the two chairs to his right and Ed took the one closest to him and Roy sat next to Ed. There was some clearing of throats and shuffling of papers.

Coach Taylor decided to start things out, even though he wasn't asked.

“He's a proven danger now and should be fired,” the coach said, looking at those around him and then at the dean without his gaze even settling on Ed. “Tell me how that little display demonstrated teaching alchemy in any capacity.”

“Coach Taylor,” the dean sighed, “please wait for the formal proceedings to begin.”

“So he can be formally fired? Oh alright then,” and the coach leaned back in his chair and nodded at Miss Bloom who averted her eyes and wrinkled her nose.

“Interesting way to start an investigative review,” Roy said smoothly and sat back to cross his legs, lacing his fingers in his lap.

“My apologies General,” the dean said, “as you can tell we are a little startled and unprepared for this sort of...mishap. But what we are here for, today, is to gather information, no more and no less. All disciplinary action, if any is taken, will be held in another, closed door, meeting. Now, let us begin. Professor Elric, what this board would like to know is just what your intentions were when you decided to alter the school building without prior authorization.”

“Originally?” Ed said frankly, “It was to paint the office a brighter color so it wouldn't look so much like a cave.”

“I see,” the dean said, stroking his thinning hairline with his fingertips, “so the original intention was not to create a two story office, but rather to improve upon your existing office space in a non-alchemic way.”

“Exactly, only painting it wasn't really doing the job,” Ed said, shifting around in his seat. “The more we tried to paint it...well, you see, the molecular structure of acrylic paint isn't all that suited to adhere to cinder block. Cinder block is traditionally known to be a very hard to paint material, but we only had the paint we could salvage from the storeroom. The paint in question was several years old if the seal on the can was any indication and was not a prime material in and of itself to start with, so you can see how the dilemma came about. What needed to occur was some sort of symbiotic bond between the paint and the cinder block.” Ed smacked his hands together and most of them jumped, “which we all know is not obtainable by ordinary means. So what I had originally intended was to transmute the walls into perhaps a more porous state that would easily absorb the paint, thus brightening the room and making the environment more work friendly and more inviting to my students.”

Roy was rather impressed with what seemed to be Ed's abilities of bullshitting on the spot. Amazing what teaching could in fact, teach the teacher.

“I see,” the dean said, sitting up a little straighter, “so in essence you were acting for the benefit of making the office more accommodating to the needs of your students.”

“Yes,” Ed said, nose in air.

“Are you really buying this?” Taylor butt in, “Are any of you really buying this?”

Down the table another hand raised and the dean nodded toward the man. Ed recognized him; his name was Andrew Hurely and he was one of the geography professors working for the academy.

“What I would like to know,” Professor Hurely said, “was how Professor Elric knew that the space was available and unoccupied. I think that is the chief concern here; the safety of the students and faculty and not how bright or how gloomy the Professor's office was or what a coat of paint might do for it. The real issue here would be were his actions a threat to human lives?”

Taylor clapped his hands, but the dean made a very loud clearing of this throat noise and Taylor subsided.

“That is the question,” Ed said slowly, before the dean could speak. “I understand your concerns. I will assure you this act wasn't as random or spontaneous as it seems. I did the research, I knew what was there, I knew the inactivity of the place. It isn't a utilized closet. When I checked it there were no fresh supplies, no footprints in the dust on the floor, in fact there wasn't even a working light bulb.”

“So you did this on the day in question?” Hurely asked. “Just before you transmuted the space?”

Ed worked his jaw a moment, glanced sidelong at Roy who did not glance back.

“No, not on the day in question,” Ed said. “A couple of days before. So on the day in question I did not know if anyone were in the space or not.”

“What would have happened had someone been there?” Hurely pushed further.

“But no one was there,” the general interrupted. “I think we all know that what Professor Elric has done is a severe breach of protocol. I am not one to cite special circumstances to excuse his behavior, however, I am the one to know the unique situation of having someone such as Professor Elric on your staff. What needs to be kept in mind here is that this man was once special ops in the military. He was entrusted with missions through the directions of his superiors who had faith in his abilities to carry out what was necessary. When on field missions it is common to have to think outside the set parameters of the orders given. I'm not saying that this applied to the day to day operations of a military academy, but what I am saying is that there is every given confidence that Professor Elric _knew_ what he was doing and would not, under any circumstance, do so blindly and without foreknowledge of the consequences of his actions. If Professor Elric knew that the area above his office was empty when he decided to act, then he _knew_ it for a fact, without doubt. Professor Elric, of all of us, is well aware that alchemy is a tool not to be used lightly. One cannot be in this room and overlook the fact that in his lifetime he has more experience in thinking on his feet than the eldest among us. I'm not defending his actions. I find them questionable and probably cause of disciplinary action, well within the board’s directive. But I would like the board to think on what actually happened and not what could have happened.” Then the general sat back again and nodded to the dean.

“I would have known if someone had been there,” Ed added, quietly as an afterthought, “and I would have stopped. The feeling of flesh is different than the feeling of inanimate material...just so you know.”

“What he means is that his alchemy can detect the molecular structure,” the general said in way of explanation of puzzled looks. “So if his alchemy had touched a human, he would have known.”

“I think that is all we need,” the dean said and looked around the table to confirm it, ignoring Taylor's mouth contortions. “Thank you General Mustang, Professor Elric. We will let you know the board's decision.”

“By tomorrow?” Ed pressed. “What about class tomorrow?”

“I'm afraid you're temporarily suspended until a verdict is reached,” the dean said. “Please make Miss Bloom aware of your assignments for the week. We'll be in touch.”

The general and the professor left together and got in the car. The general tried to hold the professor's hand on the way home, but the professor pulled it away and huddled against the door of the car and pretended like he didn't want to cry.

**

 _Did they really think they were in a position to do anything at all? He was the one in control of those strings and it would not do for there to be an discredit to his future regime._

Once they were in the house and settled for the night Roy no longer let Ed avoid the conversation that was inevitable between them.

“I know why you did it, so I'm not ever going to bring that up,” Roy said, pouring himself a scotch at the bar in the living room where Ed was lying miserably on the couch. “I also know of your immense aversion to politics, which is precisely what brought this about.”

“For the love of fuck,” Ed snarled, “not this old song and dance again. I told you that school politics are for the fucking birds. Aren't we the adults?! Aren't we supposed to be there for the students?”

Roy crossed to his armchair, sat and crossed his legs, took a sip of his drink.

“Yes Edward, you are the noble one. The selfless reminder that flies in the face of all convention in the name of honesty and decency and I'm not denying that. I put your sense of outraged justice on a pedestal and I admire, I really do. I pay it homage because I know it's what saved your life in the long run, don't think I'm making light of that fact. But you have gone to learn how the real world works. Your disadvantage, unfortunately, has been me. I've been there all along, to sweep up behind you and point you in the right direction and soothe all the jangled nerves and death threats in your wake. But I can't do that now. You're not my jurisdiction anymore. You are not my prodigal, result producing, miracle field worker and I cannot use my vast network of favors and threats because you are so very civilian. And I am afraid that it would just look bad if I were to step in and sweep this aside. We don't want that. We want to meet it head on, with transparency and the willingness to take the board’s decision, no matter what it might be.”

“I don't want to play fucking games,” Ed said, pushing himself up on the couch. “I left all the fucking games and joined the _normal_ world and now you tell me the rules are the fucking same?!”

“This is my fault,” Roy sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “If I'd let you take some of your falls this might not be an issue.”

Ed flung a pillow at him and Roy raised his arm to deflect it. Then Ed flung himself off the couch and stood looking at Roy with narrowed eyes.

“You got a lot to fucking talk about in the unrealistically noble department,” Ed spat. “You're a patronizing son of a bitch and you will always be one. If they keep me, if they fire me, either way, then it's on my head and you keep your woebegone to your firkin' self. This is about me, ass wipe, not about making you look good anymore.” And Ed stomped out of the room and down the hall and slammed the bedroom door hard enough so that Roy thought he heard plaster crack.

Roy raised his glass in the direction of Ed's absence and leaned his head back on his chair.

“Not quite Edward, not quite,” he said, then brought his glass back to his lips and finished his drink.

**

 _Self control. Learn it you fuckhead!_

Ed stood just inside the bedroom with the door still vibrating at his back. What the fuck was he thinking? What was he trying to prove? Who was he trying to impress? And why weren't they impressed?

 _Because you aren't twelve anymore you fucktard. Get it through your head you've grown up and your miracles aren't all that miraculous anymore! Children with talent are amazing, adults with talent are a threat!_

He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and leaned his head back a moment before slamming himself back against the door and letting it propel him into the room where he tipped face first onto the bed.

 _Pity is for old men and orphans, you fucking well know that._

Well what the fuck was he suppose to do now? He was probably out of a job, out of their lives, out of everything. He tried not to think of Seth and Daniel, huddled on the floor of his office as he transmuted it around them. As he risked them, as he showed them what he could do, as he fucking well showed off; and for what? Hadn't he learned anything? Had their lessons not sunk in? They depended on him and he'd let them down. They looked to him to be their _teacher_ , to school them in alchemy and what it meant to be an alchemist and not a fuck-it-all-know-it-all. Not someone who got fucking jealous because he'd thought he'd been slighted. Not some fucking hypocrite who couldn't take it that he been relegated to a fucking _broom closet_ and not a proper office.

 _Yeah Roy, yeah, ok I get it. This is what I get for not playing their fucking game._

So what to do now? Grovel for his job? Suck up his pride and ask and beg not to be fired because it wasn't supposed to be about his ego and he saw that now? He would find that son of a bitch that coined the term it's better to beg forgiveness than ask permission and he would fucking well strangle him dead. See if he didn't. Fuck, oh fuck. What should he do now?

He could ask Roy what to do, he could do that. That would be another part of the sucking up.

He lay there and stewed in self regret until he was about half done when the bedroom door opened and the holy bastard king of patronizing know-it-alls walked in. Ed could hear him but he couldn't see him because he was still lying face down on the bed thinking maybe he should let the feather comforter smother him and put him out of everyone's misery. He tried to imagine what Roy was doing just by listening to him moving around the room. He heard the rustle of fabric; he heard footsteps across the wooden floor and the creak of the bathroom door; he heard the water running and the clink of the glass that sat beside the sink. So Roy was undressing and brushing his teeth, getting ready to go to bed. It was still a bit early, but sometimes Roy like to sit in bed and read and Ed liked to rush in and out of the room to see if he was still reading or if he was asleep. Mostly it was to check if Roy's body heat had gotten the sheets warm enough yet.

There was really no help for it; he was man enough to know when to call in the reserves. So he lifted his head, then rolled himself onto his back and sat up on the side of the bed and looked toward the bathroom.

“Tell me what to do, you're going to do it anyways,” he sighed and ran his flesh hand back over his hair.

“After your display in the living room I would think we wouldn't be on speaking terms,” came Roy's voice from the bathroom, “but since you've asked so _nicely_ , I will give you some advice in lieu of telling you what to do.”

“Oh are you really,” Ed snorted, “thanks so much. You know I just hang on your every word,” and Ed flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.

There were more sounds from the bathroom that Ed could identify but declined to imagine and then the footsteps came back out into the bedroom proper and paused at the end of the bed. Ed turned his head to look at Roy standing there, naked save for his boxers and Roy shook his head at him and headed over to the chest of drawers.

“If I were you,” Roy said, pulling out his blue cotton pajamas, “I would be a very, very good boy in the off chance the board calls you back in for a second investigation. I would mind my p's and q's and suck up to as many academy department heads as I possibly could. I might think about writing an exceedingly apologetic letter ready to shoot out at a moment's notice to a lot of agitated parents. In this letter is where I would bring up my life long service to our country and the commitment to educate their sons to the utmost with your highly superior skills. I think I would find out who was the head of the PTA and suck up a bit. If there is time, maybe an informal dinner gathering, that you pay for of course, to more fully explain your side of the story. That is what I would do, for starters.”

“What is my side of the story?” Ed asked, sounding tired. “That I was an ignoramus show off and thought I needed more office space? You know what the worst thing is? I told those boys that it didn't matter. That the whole office thing was some blow off and respect is earned from your peers and you shouldn't expect to reap or profit from your principles. I'm a big fat liar, aren't I?”

“Aren't we all? No one faults you for being human, Ed. Well at least no one who understands why you do the things you do; admittedly that's not many,” Roy came over and sat down on the opposite side of the bed and leaned over the prone professor who scowled up at him from the goose down.

Roy touched the tip of his finger to Ed's chin and then drew a straight line up Ed's face, over lips and nose, past his eyebrows to his forehead. He let it linger there a moment with a strange little smile and then he tapped it there for a moment.

“Remember what I said about looks being just as important as smarts when it came to people skills?” Roy asked. “Well you see Edward, you _do_ have the looks. You have lovely hair and a square jaw and you do the best wounded expression I've ever seen and it is my common knowledge that most PTA's are made up of the students’ _mothers..._ ”

Ed's eyes became saucers.

“You are not suggesting I.... flirt with my students’ mothers are you? You are!” Ed shot upright; from lying to sitting in one fluid motion and Roy was still incredibly jealous of the ability.

“I'm just saying that I think you should have as many people in your corner in case the unthinkable happens; like they want to fire you,” Roy said with an easy shrug.

“But that would be like cheating on you!” Ed said, flabbergasted. “Don't you think that would be all kinds of just...messed up if I was to flirt with those women just because I don't want to get fired and you know, what if their husbands decide that is really bad and then I would get fired, no I'd get double fired. No double fired and lynched and it would all be your fault. You with the whole, 'Oh Ed, you can flirt with them because you're so...', are you calling me pretty?”

“Handsome, dynamic, with your coloring? Exotic,” Roy said with a wink.

Ed looked at him like he didn't believe him and folded his arms across his chest.

“Do you want to keep your job?” Roy asked.

“Of course I do!” Ed returned. “Do you really think I would have to stoop to that?”

“I think that you should keep an open mind about the whole thing,” Roy said, sliding back to sit in the pillows. “I think it is time you learned to play the game.”

“Do you flirt with other men's wives?” Ed asked, eyes narrowed. “I mean, you know, if something isn't going your way and you need one of the other generals to I don't know, help you or something, and you know that general's wife and she's sweet on your because which the fuck one of them isn't, and I will find out which one sent you that scarf, like I can't fucking get you a scarf myself, but anyways, do you?”

“Yes,” Roy said simply, “I do. Because I move in circles where the promise is the thing. Have I ever touched any of them? No. Have I ever kissed any of them? No. Women like that air of mystique; women, more than anyone, like to play the game.”

Ed was looking at him now; tensing almost as he were about to fling himself off the bed and out of the room and Roy pointed at him.

“There, that is the look I'm talking about, that right there. And I don't want that look aimed at me, because you know me, better than anyone, and you know I do what it takes to get the job done. You know I would never lie to you or do anything to purposefully hurt you.”

“Sometimes I really hate you,” Ed said, turning his face away and rubbing at his knees. “I really, really, hate you.”

“But all the other times you really, really love me,” Roy said to his back. “You're mad because I won't sugar coat this for you. But you're an adult now and I can't make everything right all the time. Stop being angry at me for giving you ammunition against people like that Thaddeus Taylor. I will never understand when you put up with people like that. People in your way; if I were you I would find a way to find something out on him. In fact, I might do that for you...” but Roy trailed off because Ed was looking at him with a look of alarm and really, what was Roy was saying?

Had his protective streak grown all out of controllable proportion?

“Forget I said that, I'm tired and just...Ed,” Roy let his head thunk back against the head board. “There will be no living with you if you lose this job. You _love_ that job and those kids and I just can't imagine you having to give it up. That's all. What that bastard said to you and about you in that investigative review; it just got under my skin and I am so glad I didn't have my gloves...”

Now it was Roy's turn to guess what Ed was doing by sound. Only he had the help of sound and motion, because he could feel Ed crawling up the bed toward him, the weight on either side of his legs as Ed straddled his lap and the thunk against the head board as Ed gripped it to either side of his head.

“Oh, so you're not ok with me digging up dirt on people, but you are ok with me roasting them alive?” Roy asked amused, then rested his hands on Ed's hips.

“I think the straight forward approach is always best,” Ed said, settling on Roy's lap. “And who wouldn't get hot when their lover offered to roast their enemies alive for insulting them? I tell you, that wouldn't be me, because that is plenty hot. I fucking love it when you defend my honor,” and Ed clamped his mouth over Roy's and tried to suck his tongue out and Roy let him, eyes closed in bliss; fingers working circles on Ed's hips. Ed pulled back after a moment, licked his lower lip and arched himself into Roy's stomach and Roy ran his hands over Ed's hips and down to grip his butt cheeks and hold him there.

“I fucking love it when you fucking love it,” Roy whispered to him and then pulled him tighter against his stomach and leaned forward to mouth at Ed's nipple though his shirt.

Ed opened his mouth and sucked in a breath, leaning closer to give Roy more shirt and nipple to suck on and he moved his hands from the headboard to Roy's shoulders. Roy used his tongue in a most forceful manner and took advantage of the rough nature of Ed's shirt to work the hardening nub back and forth. Ed squeezed his shoulder and made a delicious rumbling sound in his throat; then Ed did an amazing roll of his hips and rubbed his growing enjoyment along Roy's stomach.

Ah, so much paradise, so little time.

Roy caught the fabric of Ed's shirt, now wet and clinging in his teeth and pulled on it, creating air between Ed's wet nipple and the fabric that had been covering it and he was rewarded by the shudder that ran up Ed's middle and by the sounds of Ed being amazed by Roy's skills. It was good to be the holy bastard king of patronizing know-it-alls, even if he wasn't aware of the title Ed had bestowed on him.

Ed thought it an opportune time to show Roy the worship Roy was due and he began to thrust his salute against Roy's stomach, instead of just rub it there and Roy encouraged him but pulling on Ed's perfect butt cheeks and worming his fingers lower and between and began giving Ed a wedgie, but a wedgie with a purpose.

“Ah, fucking wedgie, you always do this, let me get my pants off,” Ed panted.

That would be Roy's purpose.

Ed flopped back prone, on his back between Roy's legs as he spread them and began to work at his belt. For this, Roy sat back and enjoyed the show. Ed got it undone, then his button fly, then he grips the waist band of his pants and began to push them down. Roy started helping them down and Ed lifted his ass so Roy could help him, and between the two of them achieved their objective of Ed's pants, along with his boxers, being on the floor beside the bed.

Roy grabbed his knees before he sat back up and looked at the bounty on display there between his own spread legs.

“What?” Ed said, squirming. “What are you staring for? Something wrong with it? Oh fuck, do not say anything mushy about my cock.”

“But it's such an inspiration,” Roy said.

“Stop!” Ed shrieked.

“I think I need to wax poetic on its many charms,” Roy cooed.

“No you fucking don't! I know, you can put it in your mouth and suck on it and then you would be quiet and blowing me and that would make me happy!” Ed howled.

“It's such a manly cock,” Roy continued.

“It's attached to a man you asshole, come ON, let go of my legs,” Ed raged.

“Look its crown of curls matches the hair on your head,” Roy simpered.

“That proves I'm not a bottle blond,” Ed cried. “For fuck's sake Roy, stoppit, why you always gotta do this, come on, come on, stoppit,” Ed whined.

“Oh look who has come to visit,” Roy sang out, “it's my tongue.”

“Oh..oh yeah? Really? You ain't shittin' me or nothing? Your tongue is really coming to play?” Ed wheedled.

“I'm sure it could be coaxed into the sandbox with a few kind words,” Roy said, rolling his eyes to look at Ed's red face.

“Here we fucking go again! What? What does it want to hear? Uh, how about... you know there is this fucking hot General I know and he is a complete and utter bastard, but he's hot so he gets away with it. How's that? That's good isn't it? That was good, let's go,” Ed snarled.

Roy lifted Ed's leg that was all flesh and then he grasped Ed's foot that was all flesh, too. Then he stuck Ed's big toe into his mouth and gave a hard suck.

Ed wasn't sure what to think for a few moments. On one hand, this had to be the most 'ew' inspiring moment he'd ever had during sex with Roy, well ok not counting all those times a million years ago when he thought Roy's ejaculate was 'ew', but since he was conceivably an adult now, this was the 'ew' moment of this era of his life. On the other hand, well, that was a testament to love if there ever was one, you know, Roy sticking Ed's foot in his mouth, and Ed would do it for him too, if the call were to arise, but he hoped that this wasn't some new fetish Roy picked up that he might expect Ed to return the favor on, no he really hoped it wasn't. Then Roy did it again and well, it turned out that Ed had a third hand he wasn't previously aware of and this hand was deciding this was kind of hot.

It was then, for the first time in his life, that Ed's cock spoke to him and he realized that everything Roy had ever said about talking cocks was positively true.

Ed's cock told him, in on uncertain terms, how fucking jealous it was of Ed's toe.

“My cock has a message for you,” Ed informed Roy loudly, “and you need to know that it thinks I should kick your ass, but I know, because I have the bigger brain, if I do that you can't give it _and_ me the satisfaction it needs. So if I were you I would get up here while I still have control!”

Roy released Ed's toe and looked at him a moment in slack jawed amazement.

“I..I did it?” Roy asked as if he were winning the Miss Amestris crown, “I made your cock talk?”

“Oh oops, too late,” Ed said with an overly bright smile and tilt of his head, “it seems the time for negotiations is over!” And Ed, a specimen of all a human body could be, did an amazing buck and twist and jerked his knees from Roy's grip and then got them under himself, then whipped around and tackled Roy into the headboard before forcing him down on the bed and grinding hard enough for Ed's pubes to leave a rug burn on Roy's lower stomach.

“I surrender,” Roy said ecstatically, “if your cock is talking I'll bottom tonight!”

“Ha! Like you have a choice puny receptacle of my greatness,” Ed snarled, lunging for the lube stuffed under the corner of the mattress while trying to keep Roy pinned. He managed to succeed and then he made a prompt mess of Roy and himself because his automail was taking orders from his cock now and well look at that, the lube bottle exploded. Then there was the inevitable question, at least to Ed, of Roy on his back or his stomach? He tried to keep it even since he was rarely in the driver's seat, but he couldn't remember what he'd done last time and Ed's talking cock had made Roy useless because that seemed to be all Roy could talk about. He decided to default to the position Roy was already in, which was on his back and he hauled both of Roy's legs up and hooked his knees over his shoulder. This gave Ed the inevitable tilt forward and Roy further was unhelpful by grabbing Ed by his shoulders and trying to pull him all the way down to kiss him, even though it was Roy's own inflexibility making it impossible; but Roy kept on alternately reassuring himself that Ed's cock talked and then praising himself for being such a stud.

“ROY COME BACK TO ME ROY, COME BACK FROM THE LAND OF TALKING COCKS AND HELP ME,” Ed finally screamed and Roy, startled by the outburst, released Ed's shoulder and Ed took full advantage of his distraction and lined up and pushed in before Roy was once again possessed by his own talking cock or what have you.

Roy gave a startled yelp, but then reached back to grip the headboard, and Ed thought that was sexy as all get out, because he was so fucking good at fucking, Roy had to hang on.

“Won't be walking straight tomorrow,” Roy gasped as Ed started his drive.

“You never walked straight to begin with,” Ed panted back, closing his eyes. “Even when everyone thought you liked girls, you had a swish,” he assured Roy, licking his lips.

“Not what I meant, but interesting information,” Roy grunted.

Ed didn't bother to reply because he was reaching the stage where anything he said would have made no sense anyways. Roy said nothing further, because he knew it would be pointless and really, despite the clumsy way Ed on top always started out, it was starting to get in the groove, and despite it all Ed knew where and how deep to hit him. It all became heat, and sweat, strength and noise and for Roy, at least, he knew when he had been bested. And to let Ed know, too; he came first.

Ed babbled love and glory to him shortly after and then lay on his chest panting and Roy felt good about life for a while. He stroked Ed's back slowly, up and down, gentle sweeps. Ed murmured and rubbed his nose on Roy's chest and sighed and settled.

Ed was his perfect compliment and always would be. Ed was his other half, but by heaven or by design he wasn't sure. Ed was all the passion he lacked in some ways. Ed was the heart to wear on his sleeve.

He would not let Ed lose his job. He had the clout, even though he'd told himself he would not use it. Ed must remain happy. A happy Ed was pliable. A happy Ed was agreeable. A happy Ed felt obligations. He would bide his time.

He had all the time in the world.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Al had plans, big paper plans, spread all over a table in his office. He hovered over them with a compass and a pencil tucked behind his ear. Every now and again he looked up at the figure prone on his office couch and worried. Ed had been there all day. There was one more day in the week and Al hoped the academy board came to a fair and impartial decision; one that allowed his brother to keep his job.

Ed tried to pretend he was being level headed and calm about it. The first day after his suspension, Roy had left him at home, but had to drive all the way back to get him after what Roy later described to Al as a half-hysterical phone call from the professor around lunch time. Ed could not just sit there. What was Ed suppose to do all day while Roy was at work? Ed could at least come in and do some work in Roy's office. Ed could at least come in and go to visit Al. Ed was going to go _crazy._

So, the day after the first day of Ed's suspension, Ed had come to work with Roy and after irritating the general into snapping at him, he'd come over to lie on Al's couch and say nothing. And it was so unlike him to say nothing it was as distracting as if he were saying something. Ed was many things to Al. First of course, he was Al's brother, but he was also his best friend, his confidant, his partner-in-crime and his strength. To see Ed so down was almost like physical pain to Al, and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

“We can go to lunch, wherever you like,” Al ventured, looking at his brother who was lying with his arm over his eyes.

“If you want,” came the muffled response.

“You like Xingian,” Al offered. “I know you like dumplings. We can go down to little Xing on the tram. How about that?”

“Can you take that much time off work?” Ed returned again, still subdued.

“I can arrange it, I don't have any afternoon appointments today,” Al said, placing his palms on the table and leaning into them. “I just don't like to see you lying there, brother. I want to help.”

“You are helping by letting me lie on your couch.” Ed sounded so tired. “But if you want to take me down to Little Xing and get this cloud of gloom out of your office, I'll go.”

Al took the pencil from behind his ear and laid it up against the compass on the table so it wouldn't roll away and went to get his jacket off the coat hook by the door.

“Come on then. We'll get off the tram a stop early and walk and get some air, and we can talk about it, just you and me, like we used to,” he said, shrugging his jacket on.

Ed rolled to his side and put his feet off the couch, then he pushed himself to a sitting position and stood. He gave a stretch, wandered to his jacket hanging over the back of one of Al's office chairs and shrugged it on. Then he gave a half attempt at smoothing his couch-lying hair and came over to the door. Al reached over and patted his brother on the back, then opened the door and ushered him through. They both nodded awkwardly at Al's assistant and headed for the elevator. Once inside Al pushed the ground level button and gave a little wave to the girl at her desk before the doors closed.

“That is so weird,” Ed said quietly, “to have someone to wait on you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Al said, looking up to watch the numbers flash as they descended. “I'm not quite sure what she does actually, other than ask me if I want coffee and tell me when I have phone calls.”

“Maybe you ought to find out,” Ed said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Girls always expect something when they do things for you, but you're married.”

“I'm sure it doesn't work like that in the corporate world,” Al said, bouncing on the balls of his feet a little. “She gets a paycheck just like I do. The company does for her and tells her to do for me. That has got to be it.”

“You're a lot smarter than I am,” Ed said as the elevator doors opened. ”I always suspected it.”

“I did, too,” Al grinned, then hopped off the elevator when his brother took a mock threatening step towards him.

**

Corporal Morgan straightened up to salute when the Lieutenant came into the file room. She looked at him askance, then asked him what he was doing there. He assured her he was there on direct orders and named a couple of names that seemed to put her more at ease. She even directed him a little in his search and he soon had a dusty folder from the back of a forgotten filing cabinet. He stood under one of the lone bulbs hanging from the ceiling and he read. He read and he concentrated because he would have to remember every detail when he made his call tonight.

So far his enslavement had just been a series of questionable errands and fact-finding jaunts. He noticed in the carrying out of his duties that his immediate superiors, who had once ridden him so hard, looked down on him with such disdain, had seemed to back off. Almost as if they considered him someone else’s problem, and from that perspective, he supposed that was true. So all he had to do was find what he was told to find, with the least amount of detection and not draw attention to himself. Well, he could do that just fine, so maybe this gig wouldn't be so bad after all.

Once he'd memorized what he needed to memorize he put the file back where he'd found it, shut off all the lights and slipped into the hall after making sure it wasn't occupied or any occupants were looking his way. He walked briskly, head up and back straight, because for once he felt like he had a real mission, a real calling. He was being depended upon and it was odd how that made him feel the need to be even better. So he would be called on again and again, because it would be known he could get the job done.

Funny how his entrapment was making him feel like he was worth something.

He returned to his usual post and took up his normal duties like he'd never left in the first place and no one there said anything to him about his absence. In fact, a few of them seemed to keep their distance a bit more.

This being owned thing was having unexpected perks.

**

The dean met him at the door, graciously gestured him in and shut the door behind him. He placed his hands on back of the chair in front of his desk as if to hold it for the general and then trotted to his own chair and sat in it, lacing his fingers on top of the blotter before him.

“General Mustang, I suppose you are here for the board’s decision,” he said with a quaver in his voice. “I don't have a full conclusion as of yet, the meeting is tonight. We hope to have it wrapped up with a final decision on Monday.”

Roy Mustang nodded, leaned back and crossed his legs comfortably, lacing his own fingers in his lap. He smiled pleasantly.

“Well, as you can tell I have a lot riding on the board's decision,” he said and the dean nodded, eyes fixed on his own hands, and wet his lips a bit.

“Yes, I know and I must tell you that I hold Professor Elric in the highest regard. He is truly an example of teaching effectiveness. With his students’ grades we have been able to raise our curve average and it reflectswell on all of us. Please be aware that I am well aware of that.”

The general nodded and tapped his fingers on his knee, studying them for a moment.

“So,” he said slowly, “you think the vote will go in our favor? I'm hoping that the disparaging comments _you_ allowed to take place in the review won't have an adverse effect on the vote.”

The dean's eyes widened a little and he nodded slowly.

“I want everything on the level,” the general said, studying a photograph on the dean's desk. “So there are no questions."

“Of course,” the dean said, shifting in his seat. “It would never be otherwise, General Mustang.”

“Professor Elric is the best thing that has ever happened to this academy, we both know it,” the general said, raising his eyes back to the dean's. “We would all be the poorer for his dismissal. You know that there is a lot of support for his program in the upper echelon of the ranks. But we are also military men, and we know the value of discipline. So make it look good, would you?”

“Yes,” the dean said woodenly, “of course.”

“Thank you for seeing me Dean,” the general said and he stood. “It's always a pleasure.”

The dean stood as well, offered his hand across the desk and the general shook it.

“Yes, always a pleasure,” the man said, looking a bit wan. “Please come by any time you have anything on your mind.”

“You know I always do,” the general said, then turned and walked across the room and let himself out.

The dean sat back heavily in his chair.

**

After many, many dumplings, Ed and Al found themselves walking further into the area of Central called Little Xing. They stopped to eye street-side food vendors, _(despite having just eaten the previously mentioned many, many dumplings)_ and to guess at the use of many wares they saw within the windows of shops.

“Have you heard from Ling?” Al asked, looking up at the Xingian writing painted on the shop window in front of them. It was the fashion lately of some of the women of Central to have things in their homes from foreign lands. The heavy dark woods and black lacquers of Xing often fit the bill, so the sidewalk traffic was dotted with both Xingians and Amestrians alike.

“Not in the last couple of months,” Ed said, watching the passersby. Didn't these people have jobs? Were they all at lunch or were they all like him? Jobless. “I got a letter, but it's anyone’s guess if he actually wrote it. Sounded like him though; you know, all those words that added up to him telling you absolutely nothing. He was such a jerk like that.”

“You miss him,” Al said pleasantly, turning to continue their walk. “He was your confident that wasn't me or the General and I respect that. Riza fills that role for me. It's good to have a source not so close to home, too.”

“Well, if I get fired maybe I'll have the time to go visit him,” Ed said glumly. “That will keep me out of Roy's hair for a bit. You should have seen him at the office; he acted as if I was a three year old that needed entertaining just because I asked him some lousy questions about a file marked confidential on his desk. I don't have to put up with that you know. I think I should apply to have my clearance reinstated just so Roy will talk to me when I visit him at work.” Ed sighed.

“You could probably get it,” Al said, stepping around a woman herding a small child in front of her, “with being a teacher at the academy and all.” Then Al realized his faux pas and looked over at Ed. “They haven't fired you yet,” he said quickly, “and in all honesty? They aren't likely to. Have more confidence brother, you've always had loads before.”

“There is a difference between now and then. Losing a job isn't consigning you to living a life devoid of feeling,” Ed said tightly. “You know, I will take whatever happens. I won't die no matter how much I might think I will if I lose this job. I'll just get another one.” Ed waved his hand, then shoved both of them into his pockets, hunched his shoulders forward and walked like he had a grudge with the sidewalk. “Who knows, maybe I'll sign back up. That would make special ops wet their pants.”

“Roy would hate that,” Al said quietly; not to mention he'd hate it himself.

“La de dah, why the fuck is everything about Roy?” Ed snarled. “You know, I know the saying every dog must have his day, but the Roy dog? His day is _every_ day. All I get to hear about is how great he is, what he's done, what he's done for _me_. Like I'm not aware of it. I know that Roy is the end all be all of my existence by now, thank you very much. But I'm getting tired of buying into that. You know there is an _Edward Elric_ that is his very own person.”

“Well yes, brother, of course,” Al tried to placate. “I didn't mean it like that. But you know, when you're married it's not about individual preferences as much as the group preference. That's all I'm saying. You don't make big decisions without Roy's input just as much as I wouldn't make them without Riza's, right?”

Ed stopped and looked at his brother, mouth drawn down on one side. He seemed to mull it over.

“Right?” Al prompted again, uncertain.

“With caveats Alphonse, with definite caveats,” Ed grudgingly conceded. “I was making big decisions, _on my own_ , when I was twelve. Maybe younger.”

“I know,” Al said, thinking he had dodged a bullet. “I was there. You did right by us, you always did right.”

“Roy just lines us all up like dominos and we all fall into place,” Ed said, surging forward again with a sigh. “I think, just for one day, _I'd_ like to live the charmed life. Who wouldn't? You were there, you know what I'm talking about. It all just falls right into his lap, _including me,_ and don't give me that look. You can talk about Riza and I'll suck it up, just let me talk about Roy.”

“Is something wrong with you and Roy?” Al asked, hurrying to keep up. “You haven't said anything like that.”

“What? No, I mean, no not really,” Ed chewed his lower lip. “I know he's been busy at the office, and now this and I guess it's just a lot of stress. He seems to be really introspective lately and that can mean trouble for me. Not that I'm not getting in my trouble first with getting fired and all, but when Roy gets quiet? Sometimes that is a cause for worry.”

“Or a sign he's just really busy,” Al said, caught up with Ed now but being careful to match his stride and not pull ahead. “He tells you when things are going awry, doesn't he? He's not the type to take out his stress _on_ you. He's very level headed about things like that.”

“He is, he is,” Ed said, nodding. “But I've learned what to watch for; I'm writing the real book on Roy Mustang, not that fictional one that was passed around the secretarial pool. Listen to me, it really is all about Roy, that bastard. Sometimes I question the sanity of my sex drive.”

“It's about love,” Al said and Ed turned his head to look at him. Al had to grab Ed's elbow and pull him to the left to keep him from running into a lamp past. “You love him, that is why you know him so well. You care about him; you pay attention to what makes him happy and what makes him sad. That's love Ed, that's all it is. It isn't about what is about who, it's just about the fact that you love him.”

Ed had turned an interesting shade of pink, but he nodded shortly and turned his face away from Al.

“Yeah, I love the bastard, go figure,” he grunted and Alphonse just smiled. They took the next street corner and turned toward the tram stop to head back to Al's office.

**

They stopped at the deli on the way home. But it was Thursday and they didn't usually stop at the deli until Friday. The general left him in the car and went into the deli alone. He returned with a large box and a small box and he put them in the back seat, saying nothing about them at all and returned to the driver's seat and started the car. Ed looked at him, then craned his neck to look in the back seat, then looked at Roy again.

“Are we having company and you forgot to tell me?” he asked, but Roy shook his head 'no'. Ed decided he shouldn't play twenty questions about this, even though he really wanted to. Ed decided that Roy would _expect_ him to play twenty questions and that would give Roy the opportunity to be unbearably smug but if Ed didn't respond as Roy predicted then maybe that might give Ed the upper hand. Because Roy expected Ed to be curious enough to drill him, by not drilling him, that would make Roy confused and that would give Ed the chance to exercise his weak smug muscle. So he looked straight ahead and ignored the fact there were two boxes in the back seat and he didn't know why and instead he focused on showing how uninterested he was so that Roy would give him sidelong glances and maybe prompt him a little to get him going. But Roy didn't bite. Instead he looked...well it wasn't _smug_ , but it must have been some relative of smug that Ed hadn't met yet. Roy looked vaguely happy about something, he had a small smile on his face and while he didn't look directly at Ed, he gave Ed the feeling he was watching him.

“Some function at the office tomorrow?” Ed asked, then inwardly cursed himself for asking because now he had to refrain from playing nineteen questions because he let one slip.

“No, just the usual Friday euphoria,” Roy said. “You know that well, everyone is at work but no one is thinking of working. I'm sure you deal with that with your students.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ed said. “They all stare dreamily off into space or out the windows. Seth stares at my buttons,” Ed shook his head. “But I know what you mean, and I really can't blame them. It is Friday after all.”

They pulled up the drive to their house, on their street, in their neighborhood and did the every day routine of getting out of the car and into the house; only Roy was carrying mystery deli boxes, and that brought a bit of the extraordinary to the every day routine and Ed had to bite his bottom lip almost bloody to keep from asking what was in the boxes.

Roy took the boxes into the kitchen and sat them on the kitchen table. Then he came out of the kitchen and walked into the bedroom, shrugging off his jacket as he went and Ed stared after him, flabbergasted that Roy had not revealed the content of the boxes. After a few minutes of disbelieving inertia, Ed tilted himself down the hall and made the turn into the bedroom himself. He stood and watched Roy, now in his undershirt and boxers, going through his closet. Roy took out one of his best dark suits and laid it on the bed.

“What are you doing?” Ed said. “We aren't going out, there was no note on my chair every day for the last week. So what are you doing? If we're going out it will be you're going out because I'm not going out, it's a school night. Well it used to be a school night, but it's just a night now. I'm not going out though. I'm not.”

Roy pulled on a crisp, freshly laundered shirt, then he put on the dark trousers, a dark red tie, the matching dark vest and lastly the jacket that hugged him like a glove. Fuck, Ed loved this suit on him. Roy stepped into his black dress shoes and Roy mussed his hair just so, then Roy went into the bathroom and spritzed himself with cologne.

“You'd really go out without me?” Ed said, catching himself before he whined.

“Cafe Mustang will be open in just a bit,” Roy purred at him, walking by him. “Why don't you get comfortable? You have a reservation for eight o'clock sharp and did you say you wanted the private table near the kitchens? It's all been arranged.” And Roy walked out the door and down the hall and Ed just stared after him; he twitched a few times, his body's fail-safe to get him going again after a brain shutdown.

After he got jump-started again he paced the bedroom like a caged tiger, wondering just when things had plunged headlong down the slope of surreal. He tugged distractedly at his clothes, but never really changed them and he checked the bedside clock about a million times, counting down the minutes until straight up eight. Well maybe he should head down the hall at seven-fifty nine, but it wouldn't take a whole minute to get down the hall and actually if he waited until straight up eight and he was a minute late, _(but wouldn't that be because the hall was what...a fifteen second walk? No! More like a three second walk!)_ then he could be fashionably late and what in the fucking hell was he _thinking?!_ He scrubbed his face, squared his jaw and hesitated in the doorway out into the hall and at straight up eight just made a break for it, coming to a halt at the kitchen door and wondering if he should just walk on in. He wasn't really sure, so he hovered there, and then finally, out of desperation, he knocked on the door frame. On the damn door frame of his own damn kitchen in his own damn house. Well, it had finally happened, Mustang had driven him insane. He realized belatedly that maybe he should have freshened up, too. Was there enough time to dash the three seconds back down the hall and squirt himself with Roy's cologne? No, he'd be late then, but fashionably late and _fuck it_ , what the hell was wrong with him that was thinking this drivel?! It was then he noticed Roy in the doorway, looking at him.

“Table for one,” Ed said, not to be outdone. “I have a reservation or you have reservations, no wait, that doesn't sound right, I was told to be here!” he ended in a rush.

“I've been expecting you,” the bastard purred and gave a slight half bow in Ed's direction. “Your table is ready, right this way,” and he made this subtle and yet grand gesture into the kitchen.

Ed walked in slowly. How the hell the bastard made a kitchen he'd seen every day for years feel like a new experience was beyond him. There sat the table, just where it always sat. It was laid out with their everyday dishes and their everyday linens. There was deli food in ordinary glass bowls and a little cake sitting on its cardboard ring straight out of the box, but it all seemed so elegant that Ed felt a bit underdressed.

In his own damn kitchen. Really, Roy deserved every title to be awarded for every manipulative technique known to man, and then some, known only to Roy. Just his belief in the atmosphere engulfed Ed and made him believe it, too.

Mustang was a miracle. Too bad he knew it.

“We are featuring a cafe specialty,” Roy said, moving to pull the chair away from the table, “a starter course of fried potato pancakes with sour cream but no chives, made from the finest mashed potatoes that Central Fare deli has to offer. For our main course we are featuring a fine flour noodle smothered in a delectable sauce of tomatoes, onions, various spices and ground chuck. Hearty, dense bread dripping in butter infused with garlic as a side. And for dessert? A lavish multi layered vanilla cake with butter cream so rich it's like sticking a stick of butter directly into your mouth.”

“If this isn't fucking heaven, nothing is,” Ed drooled. “I get potato pancakes AND noodles? You never let me have both at the same time,” he started for the chair then stopped himself short. “Wait, just wait a minute. I know what's going on here. What's happened? Something has happened to make you let me have an entirely starch dinner and butter frosting. If there is this much starch and butter on the table...it can't be good. Just tell me what's happened without making me gain five pounds at dinner. Was it...the Dean? Did you talk to the Dean?”

“Only so far as in finding out there will probably be a decision tomorrow,” Roy said, wiggling the chair back and forth. “I should be wounded here. Are you saying I don't do nice things for you unless something horrendous has happened? I hardly think that's fair.”

Ed just looked at him for a long moment. The he came over and let Roy hold the chair for him as he sat down. Roy then picked up the napkin off the table, shook it out and placed it in Ed's lap as Ed rolled his eyes.

“What was that look for?” Roy said. “Here I am serving you dinner and making an attempt to feel you up. That should make you happy.”

“It does,” Ed mumbled. He watched as Roy took his own seat opposite him and then offered him the potato pancakes. “Is that all the Dean really said?” Ed asked, taking the container from Roy.

“He said you were an exemplary teacher,” Roy said, helping himself to some sour cream. “Eat your dinner, you're going to need your strength.”

“I don't know if that is insightful or cryptic,” Ed said, pulling the bowl of noodles closer. “What is it I'm suppose to be clogging my arteries for again?”

“Let's just go with cryptic,” Roy said, raising his eyes from his plate to Ed's face. “I think that would really be the best solution of all.”

Ed wasn't sure what made him look away, but he did, and instead he applied himself to a horribly indulgent dinner. Roy was after all, being Roy, in manner and banter and Ed chided himself that after all this time he should be used to his mismatched eyes.

**

Ed didn't want Roy to go into the dean's office with him. That felt almost like having a parent along and that was all kinds of revulsion. He fidgeted outside the office while the dean's secretary, informed the dean he had visitors. Ed clutched a folder to his chest and Roy managed to get him to notice he was wearing his coat, so he took that off and hung it over his arm. He looked so distraught that Roy suggested a cup of water _(but no, not the disaster of coffee when Ed was already nervous)_ , but Ed declined thinking he'd just sweat it out in the time he was made to wait, and so would thus be smelly. When he was told he could go in, he jumped as if physically startled and almost decided to make Roy come in with him, but no, he could do this on his own. He was used to facing his own consequences. So he made Roy wait outside in the waiting area with the pretty secretary, _(and was so distracted he forgot belatedly to have second thoughts about leaving a consummate flirt with a pretty girl)_ and forged in alone. The dean stood when he entered and held his hand out to Ed.

“Professor Elric, please come in, have a seat,” he said. “I'm sure you are as eager as I am to have this whole situation behind us.”

Ed trotted forward to shake the man's hand, shuffling his folder to his left hand and nodding gamely.

“Yes, and I would just like to say I'm so sorry for having put you in this position, Dean. Whatever you have to tell me I want you to know that I'm prepared for the consequences. It was a careless and thoughtless action and I've taken the liberty of writing an apology letter to the parents...?” Ed waved the folder back and forth. “I thought that no matter what the case you could see this gets into the hands of the people I need to apologize to the most.”

“Yes, yes, sit Professor Elric, you're not fired,” the dean said with a heavy sigh and eased himself down into his chair.

“I'm not?” Ed said, still suspended half over the dean's desk even though the man had released his hands moments ago. “I'm not fired? As in, I can keep my job here?”

“Yes, but there are some things we need to discuss, do sit down please,” the dean opened his own folder on his own desk. “I want you to sign a formal reprimand. We're going to talk procedure concerning alchemy on school premises from here on in and you will be given a unpaid suspension to commence immediately and run for two weeks.”

Ed sat with a slight thump on the very edge of the chair in front of the dean's desk.

“That's it?” Ed said, then slapped his hand over his mouth and looked at the dean with furrowed brows. Really, he had to learn to curb these nasty urges to speak. Or rather, he needed to find some way to make himself make all his badly timed glib little remarks in another language, so no one would understand them.

“Should there be more?” the dean said, giving Ed the look he always gave him when Ed was summoned to his office. It was the look that said the dean was some long suffering soul and Ed was his torment for some horrendous deed in his past. That was what the look was really about.

“No, I'm sorry, it's just...I'm really grateful not to be fired,” Ed said, then bit his bottom lip so he'd shut the hell up.

The dean cleared his throat loudly, slid a sheet of paper toward Ed and plucked his pen from its holder on the desk.

“You sign while I read these rules the board have drawn up, then you will sign this, too, then you will tell me that you will be a very, _very_ good alchemist in the future and we'll both be happier for it,” the dean said and pinned Ed with his gaze like he'd pin a butterfly to a board.

“I will be so good you'd think I was a fucking saint,” Ed swore, nodding empathetically, and then he squeezed his eyes shut because he'd just used that word he told the dean he'd never use on the school grounds again.

“You sign, I'll read,” the dean said, like the brave soul he was and Ed cracked his eyes open as the dean lifted a sheet from the folder and started to read aloud.

**

They sat to have a celebratory fancy coffee in Roy's favorite cafe near the base. Roy was admiring the passersby and Ed was stirring the tiny spoon in the ridiculously tiny cup of fancy coffee he'd been given.

“You know, it's sort of like he's given me an unscheduled vacation,” Ed said. “Two weeks suspension, seems a little too easy,” he glanced at Roy.

“You think so?” Roy was not looking at Ed, but at various things on the street. “I think it's adequate. For you, at least. You love the job and you care so much for your class that separating you from them seems apt punishment to me.”

“You didn't say anything to him?” Ed asked slowly. “I mean, I know you have pull there. But you didn't say anything to him, right? Or the board; you didn't have another meeting behind my back or anything.”

“Edward,” Roy chided softly, still watching the people on the sidewalk.

“Well, I am pretty indispensable,” Ed said, watching the man across the table. The one who wasn't looking at him, but instead, looking around like he wasn't quite familiar with his surroundings. Like he was studying a street he'd seen every day of most of his working life as if to memorize it. Like he saw every person who walked by as a new opportunity.

“You really are, I don't know why you continue to doubt it,” Roy said, his eye moving to watch a waitress weave amongst the tables.

Ed reached over and put his hand on top of Roy's hand where it lay on the table and Roy immediately turned to look down at where Edward was touching him.

“Is something bothering you?” Ed asked. Because he loved this man; he knew this man, inside and out. Because he was quietly uneasy about things he couldn't pin down and because the general always met your eye when he was talking to you. The general was always so very straightforward and earnest when he said things to Ed that mattered.

Roy raised his eyes to Edward's then and he smiled his old smile and flipped the hand under Ed's over and curled his fingers over Ed's hand. And Ed felt a little better, because the man he loved looked more familiar again.

“Everything is fine,” he said, to waylay Edward's fears. “I was just worried for you is all, but everything is fine now. We'll just make sure to keep it that way.” And he lifted Ed's hand off the table a moment, pressed it to this his lips and then laid it back down.

Ed nodded and swallowed. Roy's reassurance had always been so comforting in the past; there was no reason it should feel any different now.

Roy rubbed his thumb slowly back and forth over the back of Ed's hand and his eyes drifted again, focusing over Edward's shoulder and Ed resisted the urge to turn his head and look at what the general was watching.

Ed just told himself it was his own nerves and the stress of the last few days; and he ignored the look in Roy's eye, because for the life of him, he must be interpreting it wrong. Yes, it was just stress and nerves.

Of course Roy knew where he was.


	4. Chapter 4

He had to wear nice clothes, and when it was determined he might not have something nice enough, they were provided. He was given money to buy drinks and appetizers, so he would fit in. He was told not to get drunk and made aware of the consequences of doing so and drawing attention. All he had to do was sit at the end of the nice wood and brass bar and listen to the two men beside him talk about things they didn't feel safe enough talking about at the office. He was to listen for names and dates and events. He was to make mental note of the most trivial of details. He wasn't to speak to them directly or let on he was interested in their conversation. He was to engage the bartender and eat his appetizers and maybe he could bring a newspaper that he could jot down notes on while making it look like he was doing the crossword.

He was given implicit instructions and he was meant to follow them.

And so he did.

**

“Fuery, if you have a moment,” the general said and Fuery, eager to please, nodded and came over to stand in front of the big desk.

“What is the most effective way to ascertain if there is surveillance on a line?” the general asked, slouched back in his chair as he usually was, elbows on arm rests, fingers laced. “Is there some way to find out the data without the person responsible for the surveillance being aware?”

“Well,” Fuery said, tugging at his cuffs, “phone tapping indicators can be a noise. But sometimes it's to high register to hear. A sound bandwidth sensor could detect it. If you set it to a low frequency and it pops a couple of times per minute, that would mean the line is tapped. Also finding physical evidence, like the bugs is a sure fire indicator. As for them knowing if you know? More difficult to answer, but I don't think, if you didn't advertise it, they would know.”

“Very useful information,” the general said in an imitation of Jerry Chin, Xingian Master Detective. It was a very popular radio program, and Fuery loved it and broke into a grin.

“But surely you knew that yourself, sir,” Fuery said, “and you were just asking me to try out your impersonation.”

The general looked at Fuery in a strange way for a moment too long before turning in his chair and looking out his window. Fuery tugged at the bottom of his jacket and stayed at casual attention.

“I'm rather good at it, aren't I?” the general said, looking out the window. “So, is there anyway to make a wire tap completely undetectable? Other than giving it a high register?”

“There are some theories,” Fuery said slowly, “but nothing concrete. But it's an interesting problem to work on,” the man reached up to adjust his glasses, “and something I dabble in from time to time.”

“I knew that,” the general said, turning back to look at Fuery again. “It's good to know I have someone like you to rely on for these types of questions. Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Anytime sir,” Fuery said, giving a little bow of his head, then the general turned away again and Fuery felt dismissed.

**

“You called me at my house,” Seth gushed. “I can't believe you called me at my house.”

“Yes, well I'm going to be out for a couple of weeks, but I don't want to be behind when I get back, I want you to tell me what you are studying. I left course instructions but I know Miss Bloom sometimes likes to improvise and who is watching the beginners class now?” Ed said, keeping the phone between ear and shoulder and pad and pen ready to jot down notes.

“Have you called anyone else?” Seth asked, voice breathless and excited on the other end of the wire. “I mean did you call Daniel or anything? He's been really moody since you haven't been in class. He's not doing the lessons even though he should; but I'm not tattling on him!” Seth said, distressed he'd just let that slip.

“I haven't called anyone else,” Ed said, then had to pause at Seth's happy noises before he could continue, “don't worry, I won't rat you out or anything. Just... keep an eye out for me, ok? And keep me informed and you know, if you know something she's telling you guys isn't right, speak up. Do that for me, ok? I worry about you guys when I'm not there.”

“Ok,” Seth said sobering. “We miss you, too. I mean, it's not as much fun to just read about it in the book. You make it really real. I won't let her tell anyone any bullshit.”

Ed smiled into the receiver even if Seth couldn't see it, then blinked when he heard what had to be Seth's mother's voice, even though he couldn't make out here words.

“Ok Ma, sheesh, I'm sorry, it wasn't a bad swear,” Seth cried, defending himself.

“You better go,” Ed soothed. “You got my number don't you? You call me if you or anyone needs anything at all, ok? You do that for me and I'll see you in two weeks.”

“Ok,” Seth said. “I'll tell everyone you called, I'll tell them what you said,” he assured.

“Thanks Seth, I can always count on you,” Ed returned. “I'm hanging up now. Bye.” And he put down the receiver and crossed his arms on his desk and rested his chin on them. He looked across the room, but Roy's desk was empty. He could hear the general's phonograph, playing low, from the living room. R.D. was still outside, which was unusual. But lately the little dog had been staying out in the yard or under Ed's feet when in the house. Ed wondered what had changed the routine of R.D. and Roy dominating the sofa most evenings. He picked up his pen to doodle on his blotter. Mostly half thought-out arrays, Roy's nose, sometimes a hastily written note or phone number. He didn't want to go out in the living room and sigh at Roy heavily. He wasn't sure what made him glance up, but when he did Roy was standing in the doorway. He was half illuminated from the back by the light spilling into the hall from the living room. Ed only had on his desk lamp so he couldn't make out Roy's face.

After a moment of silence when they only stared at each other, Roy spoke.

“Are you going to be in here all night? We can switch on the radio if you don't want to listen to the music,” he said.

“Maybe I like being in here,” Ed mumbled, chin still on his arms, but he released the pen and watched it fall over. “I don't want to get rusty, so I figure if I sit behind my desk it will keep the experience fresh in my mind.”

“It's only two weeks,” the darkened Roy in the doorway said. “You should do something more constructive with the time you have off. I do have some research waiting to be done if you want to work for me; but that would be working for the military _and_ for free.”

“Ew no thanks,” Ed said wrinkling his nose. “Working for you is one thing, but letting the military leech my talents? I'll pass. Besides, you only get testy when I'm in the office.” Ed traced his half finished array on his blotter with a fingertip. “You think I'm nosey.”

“I don't think you're nosey, you are nosey,” Roy returned. “Who was that on the phone?”

Ed raised his eyebrows, surprised, because he didn't think Roy had known he was on the phone. In fact, when he'd come in here to make the phone call Roy was on the couch with his paper, like he usually was; nothing budged him from his paper until he was ready to budge.

“It was Seth,” Ed said. “I just wanted to check in with my class...why? And ain't you one to be asking after just telling me I'm nosey. What's with you lately? You're all pins and needles.”

“I don't know what you mean,” Roy said and half turned from the doorway. “If you want to sulk in here all night that's certainly your prerogative, but I'm going back to the living room. Join me if you decided you'd rather have company than brood over your own mistakes.”

“That's fucking cold,” Ed hissed but Roy had already walked back across the hall.

**

The man on the phone was not the man whom enslaved him and never had been. Instead he was a clipped, professional voice who was just interested in the facts and nothing else. All Morgan had to do was enunciate clearly and be straight to the point. He told the voice everything he'd heard and seen while he was in the swanky bar. He even told him when he'd seen people there that he wasn't told to watch; he wanted to be thorough at his job. He told them everything, including all the nonsensical polite inquiries they made about each other's families and how their day went, like they really gave a fuck about that crap. Why did people always go through the motions? But _he_ went through the motions, every time Morgan had seen him since first bringing him into the fold. _He_ kept everything very on the level and he pretended that Morgan didn't exist; just like he should.

If Morgan had ever considered any other human being to be a role model, _(and he never really had)_ this would be the man to emulate. Right down to the way he wore his smile, the one that never touched his eyes.

**

“I'm doing this for _you_ ,” Ed emphasized again as he followed the general down the halls of HQ the next morning. “Because I do things for you. Not because I would be bored out of my skull at home all day; not because I have the burning need to fuel the military machine, but because you asked me. I am _not_ sulking, no matter what rude assed thing you said to me last night. I get to be a little down about it, you said so yourself, so stop name calling.”

“I've already apologized for that,” Roy said, moving straight ahead, head up. He barely looked at anyone they passed in the hall. He made a sharp left turn and Ed hurried to follow, as they passed through the outer office of his own. It was filled with secretaries and file clerks, mail room boys and assorted messengers. The outer office staff was shared by all the higher ranked individuals on the floor; it just so happened that Roy's actual office was the large office directly behind this informational community. Ed nodded to several people there he knew, but the general was already at the big double doors and one of the staff was already rushing to open them for him. He came straight in, shrugging off his coat and passing it to Fuery who happened to be standing there and returning a salute from Falman and taking a folder that Falman was offering. He went to his desk, sat straight backed in his chair and laid the folder on the desk in front of him. Ed came to an uncertain halt as the man looked at him; it brought back somewhat uncomfortable and somewhat pleasant memories. Funny how that worked.

“Fullmetal,” the general intoned grimly. “Here you are again; serving out a menial task to get yourself out of trouble. I think that Second Lieutenant Falman and Second Lieutenant Fuery have many small things that must be done. I'm quite sure they'll be happy to have such a prestigious errand boy for the day,” and the general made a gesture with his hand and Ed turned to see Falman and Fuery grinning at him. He whipped back around and narrowed his eyes at the general and set his jaw.

“Don't look at me,” the bastard said, smooth as silk, “you _volunteered._ So, carry on. Falman, Fuery, he's all yours. The Professor is nostalgic, so why don't you remind him what he used to do around here whenever I had to get his ass out of a sling.”

Ed cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean _you_ got me out of a sling? My rep got me out of that sling because I'm damn good at what I do. But I did volunteer and I'm a man of my word.” He turned to the two soldiers who were still grinning at him. “So, what is it I need to do around here to help?”

And then both Fuery and Falman did a synchronized bow. They were so perfect at it Ed gaped and how did they pull it off and when did they have time to practice it? Then they did this sweeping gesture with their hands and Ed looked beyond them to the large tables that served as work stations for the general's inner office staff. They were stacked with many, many file folders. Many, many as in more than just many, as in a considerable amount and Ed groaned and let his head flop back even as he shuffled forward. Falman and Fuery each took one of his arms and escorted him to the table; Falman even pulled out a chair for him. Then Falman and Fuery sat down on either side of Ed. Fuery made sure Ed's ink pad was well saturated and the wooden handle of his stamp was clean. Falman made sure that Ed knew that the folders had to be presented to him in just a certain way with the front open just so, so that Falman could inspect every stamp Ed made. Fuery dragged the first pile close and Ed shot daggers across the room at the general.

But the general was reading his own file and didn't look up at any of them. It struck Ed as odd, because the man so loved a good gloat. Havoc came in then, fanning himself with a file folder and gave Ed a curious look and almost ran into the general's desk. Ed by this time was busy stamping. The general looked up at Havoc, took the file folder when the man offered it, then looked back down at the file he had been reading. Havoc stood there awkwardly for a moment, then shrugged at the big table, did the perfunctory salute to a man not paying attention and left.

All through out his stamping horrors Ed kept glancing up at Roy, but never once did he catch Roy glancing back.

**

Ed shot ahead of Roy as they headed to the mess hall at lunch and came alongside Riza, his sister-in-law. That was still so new and weird he said it to himself every time he saw her. His _sister-in-law._ So, that meant, in the eyes of the law, Riza was now his sister. But it was a really weird term, because if Riza was now his sister and Al was his brother, did that make Riza and Al incest? He really thought there should be a better term. He'd had to work one up.

“Edward,” she said with a reserved smile. “I heard you were in the building today and Al told me of the outcome of your situation. I have to say I am very relieved the academy will still have your services.”

“Yeah, you and me both,” Ed said, then looked behind him to find Roy had stopped to speak to someone in the hallway; perfect. “Listen, can I ask you something?” he said.

“Of course,” Riza said, turning to glance behind them as well, she lifted an eyebrow and looked at Ed again.

“Has Roy seemed off to you?” Ed asked. “Like...stiff or overly work-ethical or I don't know, just having his head up his ass?”

“You're asking me to speak ill of another officer,” Riza sniffed, turning into the mess hall. “I am on duty you know.”

“Noooo,” Ed said, doggedly following, “I'm asking you to tell me what the fuck is up with my husband, that's what! Is he having a bad time here or something? He's being all levels of weird and it's weirding me out at home. Come on, if he were up to no good, you'd tell me, right?”

“My how this building improves your vocabulary,” Riza said, stopping at the back of the line. “It's like a regression in a red coat has come to assault me.”

“I'm serious,” Ed stressed as he kept watching the door for the general. “It can't just be me, or it can just be me but I need some empirical evidence. Does he like space out at you or say cryptic things? Does he ever smile like he means it anymore?”

Riza studied him for a long moment, glancing toward the doorway of the mess hall herself. Then she gave a little sigh, and Ed squirmed because there truly was no one who made him feel twelve like she could.

“I haven't worked with him that closely, Edward,” she said. “When I came back to Central I took a position in administration not under his direct authority. However, I will say that I have noticed some activities coming from his office that might be somewhat uncharacteristic. A few tactics that don't seem his style, but also things I would not put past him if he were still...somewhat ambitious. It's been common knowledge this last year or so he's 'calmed down' and so the activity is a little suspect, but not enough to make me think it's out of line.”

Ed nodded somewhat glumly. “That's just it, it is Roy and it isn't Roy and it's driving me crazy trying to pin down just what is rubbing me the wrong way. I don't know, maybe all the hoopla that was stirred up by my stupid little stunt at the academy has me _and_ him on edge.” He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Roy made his grand entrance then, and headed over to where Ed and Riza stood in line. He nodded apology to the soldiers lined up behind them and slid into the line with them, giving Ed a half smile and nodding to Riza.

“In line with the grunts,” Ed said with a grin, “you're slumming it today to stand with the lowly civilian in a name badge.”

“I'm actually standing here with the Colonel,” the general sniffed. “Since she's setting a good morale boosting example. So just why are you here lowly civilian slave, I mean contractor?”

Ed snorted with indignation and Riza gave a small smile. In the moment he certainly didn't seem like someone still working the machinations behind the scenes. He looked relaxed and happy to be there with Ed at his side. He bumped shoulders with Ed affectionately and Ed gave him the hairy eye but bumped shoulders back all the same.

“Riza, how well do you know McFarland?” Roy said, pushing his hands in to his pockets. “He's over in your division. Do you have any communication on projects going on he's involved in?”

“I don't really,” Riza said. “He's an NCO that works out of Brigadier General Wills' office.”

“Wills,” Roy said, rubbing his chin. “He's in planning, isn't he? Hasn't he been working with Intelligence lately on the Drachma border issues? What have you heard about that? When are you going to get tired of your civil-military operations duties and come back to me, hmmm?”

“Thinking of branching out?” Riza said. “Here I thought you were happy with the relatively cushy oversight of homeland defense. If you're interested, sir, I'm sure Brigadier General Wills would be the best person to answer your questions.”

“Oh, no need for that,” the general replied smoothly, going up on tiptoe to try and see what was on the menu for the day, “I just thought if you'd heard any scuttlebutt. I'm not really looking to get anywhere near the front lines.”

“Yeah, stay the hell away from front lines,” Ed said. “You don't need to go charging into bullshit anymore; remember last time? I want us to both be retired. If you go charging off and doing stupid heroic shit then it's my ass on the line to keep your ass safe.”

“I do feel safe knowing you watch my ass,” Roy said, and then he grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

Ed rolled his eyes and Riza momentarily pretended she didn't know either of them.

“Still, never hurts to keep well informed,” Roy said, edging forward as the line moved. “If I were Wills I think I might avail myself of all the resources at hand; like veteran officers of major conflicts; oh like me. I can be all advisory from the safety of my office. Maybe I will speak to Wills after all.”

“What's so interesting about Drachma you wanna keep tabs on it, too?” Ed grumbled. “Let other people in the military do their jobs and you worry about yours. Can you see the menu board? Is there beef or fish?”

“How do you know McFarland, sir?” Riza asked, turning to look toward the front of the line. “He's been out of the country on fact finding details for a while, in fact, I believe he has been kept fairly low profile because of his assignments. He's not one to come up in day to day office gossip. Since you don't speak with Brigadier General Wills it's a little surprising you know him.”

“One meets all kinds here Colonel,” the general said looking toward the back of the line. “His name has come up a time or two.”

“I'm not sure why you'd need an intelligence analyst,” Riza said, “seeing as how you don't dabble into those matters anymore.”

Ed stood between them, not knowing where to look. Roy could set traps, but Riza knew how to bait them.

“Let's not discuss this here,” the general said. “Let's just say his specialty is the trafficking of weapons of mass destruction and that _does_ fall under the jurisdiction of homeland security and leave it at that.”

“I agree this is not the venue for such a discussion,” Riza said, then she gave Ed a look, but said nothing. “The menu board says meatloaf,” she informed them.

The general winked at Ed, like this was some score on his behalf, but Ed didn't wink back and in fact had to force himself not to stare at the general who was standing there so casually with his hands in his pockets; as if he were looking forward to meatloaf and mass destruction.

He wasn't really hungry anymore.

**

When he was young he was sure the world operated in the order in which equivalence dictated. All wrongs would eventually be rights and all things were black and white with no shades of gray. He eventually realized, as he grew older, just how young and foolish he was; but he still couldn't shake the feeling that he'd already paid ahead for any trouble to come his way later in life. Things were how they were supposed to be right now, all the injustices avenged and life should be pretty much exactly how it was and all doubts would be captured and sealed away never to be seen again.

He closed the door of the den and got his brother on the phone.

“I think Roy is up to something and he's not telling me. He's hiding things from me again. I think he's thinking of some stupid assed political move; or hell maybe a military move, but whatever it is, he isn't telling me. You have to help me, I'm just going to snap on him and then he gets to accuse me of not trusting him. Al, tell me what to do, I need you to tell me what to do already. This is bullshit,” Ed half whispered, half snarled into the phone. Then there was a tap on the door and Ed yanked the phone away from his ear and slapped his hand over the mouth piece.

“WHAT?” he yelled to be heard through the wood, “I'M BUSY,” he added. The door knob turned and Roy poked his head inside. Ed met him with a scowl and Roy shrugged and smiled his little smile and said: “Oh, sorry, didn't know you were on the phone.”

“Well you see I am, so what do you want?” Ed said, shifting in Roy's big leather desk chair. Roy's desk held the phone and many times Ed actually sat in the man's lap while on the phone.

“I don't know, you're so secretive in here lately. Maybe I was lonely? You abandon me in the living room a lot lately. Is there something going on I should know about?” the general asked.

Oh, the irony. Ed just looked at him for a long moment, then at the phone receiver in his hand. He held up his finger to Roy as the put the ear piece back to his ear.

“Hey Al, I'll call you back, I think maybe I should just...ask him,” Ed said into the mouth piece.

“Ok, call me back,” Al said. “I think that's a good decision, brother.”

Ed set the receiver back in its cradle and pushed himself to his feet. He came toward Roy and Roy retreated before him and then preceded him into the living room. Roy stood there in his house pants and slippers and Ed walked by him, flopped down on the couch, then smiled and patted the cushion next to him.

“You're right, not about me hiding things from you, but I think we should spend more time together,” Ed looked around. “Where's R.D.?”

Roy was watching him with a somewhat mild expression, when Ed mentioned the dog he turned his head toward the back of the house.

“I don't know, out in the yard I assume, he abandons me now, too,” the general gave a shrug, came over to sit beside Ed. Ed waited for the customary arm around his shoulder, but instead Roy picked up the newspaper he'd left lying on the couch and settled back. Ed waited a few moments and when no arm was forthcoming he tried to do it himself. The problem being that Roy was taller than he was, even sitting down, so it was uncomfortable and Roy looked at him funny, so Ed tried turning toward Roy somewhat, but it still didn't help.

“I thought you wanted me in here for company, not to watch you read the newspaper,” Ed said testily. Roy raised his eyebrows and looked at the paper in his hands, he then set it aside on the couch once again and appeared to try and subtly slouch down on the couch to make him a more convenient height for an arm across his shoulders.

“Ok, that's better,” Ed said, then he put his other arm around Roy's front and tipped Roy into his lap. There were a few grunts and moments of rearranging until Roy got turned onto his back and lay along the couch his head in Ed's lap, looking up at him. Ed stroked Roy's bangs back and titled his head as he regarded him, there, prone in his lap.

“Tell me what's going on,” Ed said. “You know, you're been pretty weird lately. You act like you're not even with me half the time. When you talk to me you're always looking over my shoulder and half the time you're asking me to repeat what I've said because you aren't listening.” Ed leaned over Roy, still stroking his hair. “That's really not like you. I know you're busy and all with work, but you're never like this. So I'm worried, ok? Don't you remember our promise?”

“Promise?” Roy echoed. “What promise?”

“Dark places,” Ed said firmly, “we promised not to hide things from each other. You know, you don't stand in line in the mess hall and drill Riza about covert operatives most of the time. You can tell me anything, you know that. Come on, it's me. You remember me, my name is Edward and I'm your lover and I've known you my entire life. And I do _know_ you Roy, I do. I know you enough to know this isn't like you, and I'm concerned, ok?”

Roy reached up then, lay a fingertip on the end of Ed's nose. He smiled and he always looked so handsome when he did it and then he trailed his fingertip down to Ed's lips and Ed kissed it.

“Ok, I've been tired and maybe I've been a little stressed out. You're right, work is very busy right now and I'm ashamed of myself that I've been bringing that home; you deserve better. Especially right now; I should be more supportive than I have been; I know you've been down.” Roy stroked his fingertip back and forth over Ed's lips. “I promise that I'm not embroiled in any sinister plots; but I do have a lot of responsibility. I want to talk to McFarland simply to see if he's willing to train some of my own operatives. He is an expert in his field and I think my department could use some training. Does that satisfy you?”

“Yes, no, maybe, I don't know, it's not about me being satisfied,” Ed said moving his lips against Roy's finger. “It's about you not getting ulcers or a stroke. Don't bottle things up so much. I know you think you are doing it to keep me from having to deal with it, but stop it. That's what I'm here for now. You and me, together, that is what this is about. And by the way, you have been supportive to me and I'm fine, just on a little break. So don't worry about me there is nothing to worry about.”

“Ok,” Roy said, smile softening. He pressed more fingers to Ed's lips and Ed kissed them as well. “I need you,” Roy said, voice as soft as his smile, “don't ever think otherwise. You're the reason I'm a fairly functional member of this society. I promise I will try very hard to share all my woes with you so you can worry right along with me, ok?”

Ed smiled against Roy's fingers. “Bastard,” he said affectionately. They both looked toward the arched doorway of the living room when they heard the click-click sound of nails on hardwood. R.D. appeared there and stood looking at them for a moment.

“R.D.,” Ed coaxed with a little half whistle, ( _the art of whistling was one thing that has bested the Fullmetal Alchemist, but he was never a quitter and soon R.D. Learned that the strange sound coming Ed's mouth was actually meant to beckon him_ ) “come on R.D.” And Ed even patted the couch cushion beside him. R.D. paced a moment at the doorway before coming in and coming over to Ed's foot and sniffing at it.

Ed reached down to scratch his ears and tried again to get him to hop up on the couch. But the little terrier remained where he was on the floor. Roy turned his head, removed his fingers from Ed's lips and hung his hand off the couch. After a few moments of indecision, R.D. finally gave Roy's hand a sniff and let the man give him a couple of scratches.

“Do you think he's sick?” Ed said worriedly. “He's usually all over us when both of us are sitting down, and hell, you're lying down, why isn't he trying to sit on your face? That's what he does to me.”

“We'll watch him, he's been moody lately,” Roy said, trying to entice the little dog closer. “But he's eating alright. If it keeps up why don't you take him to the vet in a day or two?”

Ed nodded, kept alternately petting on Roy and R.D. until it was finally time for bed.

**

 _He was beautiful and powerful. Aged and young all at once and when he smiled Roy's stomach bottomed out. There was this mystery around him and a faint glow, almost like that of a jewel. When he spoke all Roy could hear was music, words as melodious sounds and he couldn't quite make them out. But he knew that this man would deliver him beyond all the trials and horrors that flesh and blood brought with it. All the sickness and diseases, all the infirmities and ailments, even beyond death. His smile spoke of years to come and Roy wanted to call his name with Ed's on his lips._

 _Because, wasn't it Ed?_

 _Beauty is fleeting and in a moment he was surrounded by darkness and agony as a palatable thing. A dense feeling against his skin and teeth. And Ed stood there and when he smiled Roy felt a tightening in his belly like rage and when Ed spoke it sounded like twisted, drying metal and Roy couldn't make out his words. Here, too, was power and beauty in a shadow and Roy wanted to call out his name with Ed's on his lips._

 _Because, wasn't it Ed?_

 _He tried to move toward him but it was like swimming through invisible mud and Ed only watched and didn't offer his hand or his heart and Roy felt cold and wet and unable to do anything but try and try to get to Ed's side while Ed remained indifferent and cold. He felt as if he'd be there, running in place, forever. Ed turned from him then, there was someone else, just out of Roy's vision and Ed's smile turned into something that tore through the thin protection that was Roy's skin. Roy trapped there forever, just out of reach, and Ed's smile burned him inside out and left him a husk, abandoned in this endless nothingness and he screamed Ed's name but the words poured from his lips and fell to his feet and shattered into shards of glass. And now he had to run there, on his careless words, forever._

He struggled up, gasping for air, tearing his arm free of a tangle of sheets and he heard his name again. A sleep inquiry from the darkness and then there was a flash of light and he was in his room, in his bed and it had been nothing. It had been nothing but his own inner workings, raging again for unknown reasons.

“Roy?” Ed said. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Roy ran a hand over his face and turned to look at Ed. Ed sat there in his pajamas and wild, loose hair and Roy looked around the room. He caught the flash of red from the corner of his eye and turned back around quickly. There was Ed again, looking sleepy and concerned and questioning. He turned his head further and there it was again, that splash of red in his vision. He half looked back at Ed again, where he was kneeling on the bed with the collar of his black jacket scraping his chin and his red coat like a sea around his knees.

“Colonel, are you ok?” Ed said. “Look at me.”

Roy physically jerked back and turned around quickly and Ed, in his worn green pajamas, gave him a frown.

“Hey Roy, are you awake?” Ed said. “Look at me.”

Roy turned his head a half turn, to the right and there was Ed, in his red coat. His bangs were out of control and his braid was hanging over his shoulder. Ed was frowning and squinting at him.

“It's ok, I'm right here. Colonel, did you have a nightmare?” Ed said.

The air wouldn't come into Roy's lungs fast enough, and his body wouldn't move quickly enough and the bed seemed to be trying to hold him in and he flailed in the covers, trying to get free.

“Whoa! Whoa! Roy! It's ok, I'm here, I'm right here! It's a nightmare, Roy,” Ed was calling behind him, but he just wanted to get away. He was supposed to be awake, he was supposed to be alert. When bad things happen in dreams you wake up and he was awake but he'd woken up to a dream, and he didn't want the bad thing to happen because where would he wake up? He was already awake!

Ed lunged across the bed, caught his wrist and Roy reacted instantly, turning on him, swinging his free arm.

“Colonel, it's ME,” Ed cried, ducking back and bringing up his arm to block the wild blow. Roy could feel the rough fabric of Ed's glove on his bare wrist and the hardness of the automail beneath it. “Snap out of it! What are you doing?” Ed demanded, his loose hair in his face now, his teeth bared as he hauled back on Roy's wrist. “It's ok, I'm here! I'm here! You're safe!”

“NO,” Roy screamed in his face, “I'm awake! I'm awake! LET GO!” And he grabbed the headboard for leverage against the two of them and strained hard. Ed's hand slipped free and he slid off the bed, his bare feet hitting the cold hardwood. He started around the bed, but the boy in the red coat was crawling across it to cut him off and he turned back the other way and Ed lunged across the bed again, taking a swipe at him.

Roy threw himself back, hitting the wardrobe and knocking the back of his head against it painfully. He squeezed his eyes shut and then open and both of the Eds were looking at him with identical expressions that might suggest fear and worry. He pushed off the wardrobe and just ran for the door. He could hear the uneven treads of them behind him; metal on wood, flesh on wood, metal on wood, flesh on wood. He ran blindly at first, turning into the first doorway he saw, which was the kitchen. He missed the light switch as he ran in and didn't dare turn back to try it again.

“ROY,” Ed cried behind him, sounding frightened and he should stop and see why Ed was afraid, but if he looked back and he saw them both, then he wasn't outrunning this not-dream. He wouldn't escape. There wasn't enough time to work the lock on the back door, so he turned again, ducking through the second doorway out of the kitchen, across a tiny hallway and through the archway into the living room. He felt the touch at his elbow and whirled. Ed looked up at him, all red and gold and black and he tried to back away and hit the coffee table, tumbling back over it and hitting the floor with his back. Then Ed was there again, the neck of his pajamas sagging down, his hair everywhere and he yelped when Roy fell and went to his knees beside him.

“FUCK, are you ok? Roy, wait no...,” he held out his hands, ( _and then one was gloved and one was not_ ) as Roy shoved himself to a sitting position and backed as far away as he could get, which was just until he hit the side table of his chair and he shoved it aside hard and tried to squeeze into the corner of his chair and the wall.

Ed was panting, he hand his hands held up as if there were surrendering right along with Roy's sanity, but he didn't try to come any closer. As Roy raised his hands to grind the base of his palms into his eyes, Ed rippled in his red coat, and then it was black and he couldn't see and in that one instant it was the most blessed thing in existence.

“Roy?” Ed's voice sounded small and uncertain; frightened and choked. “Roy, can you hear me? Do you know it's me? It's Ed. Roy, please, you're scaring me.”

“Ed?” Roy said from his self induced darkness. “Which Ed are you?” Even as he said it, he knew he sounded absurd, but he had to know.

“The...the only Ed,” Ed said quietly. “The only Ed you know. Just..your Ed,” Ed continued, sounding lost.

Roy heard movement then; the sound of cloth sliding on the hardwood and he could just feel Ed edging slowly closer. He tried to hold still, he tried not to shake. Because this was _his_ Ed. The only Ed he knew; the Ed who was there to hold him together and make him whole. It was Ed; the most important thing in his life. It was Ed his lover and soul. It was only _Ed_.

He flinched bodily when the hand touched his knee, and the touch was snatched away and Ed's voice rose again, “No, it's ok, it's just me. Roy it's just me, please Roy, please wake up,” Ed begged.

“I'm awake,” Roy said, pressing harder, wanting it darker. “I'm awake, I know I am.”

“Then look at me,” Ed said. “Prove it to me. Take your hands down and look at me.”

Roy resisted for a moment; but who was he to resist what Ed asked of him. Especially this Ed, in this voice; the one that sounded painful and raw; breathless and hoarse; how could he deny _his_ Ed anything? Slowly, haltingly, he lowered his hands, but still he kept his eyes closed for the moment. He heard shifting and he could almost feel warmth from Ed's body so close to his pulled up knees. He cracked his eyes open at first, just a sliver. He could only see his own knees in front of him, but he heard Ed take a breath and it pushed him to raise his head and widen his eyes.

Ed was sitting on his knees in front of Roy's knees; Ed with red rimmed eyes and a pale cast and his hair an absolute fright wig. He sucked in his lower lip as Roy raised his eyes to him. Ed's hands were hovering over Roy's knees and his fingers twitched. Roy cautiously turned his head to the left and to the right, but there was nothing there; only him and only this one Ed; his Ed.

“Roy?” Ed asked again, shaking a little, and Roy realized how tensely Ed was holding himself. “I'm right here, see? I won't touch you if you don't want me to; are you awake now? Really, really awake? That was a helluva nightmare that time, you've never done that before. Oh fuck you have scared the fucking shit out of me. You see me, right? You can hear me?”

Roy raised his arms and Ed might as well have dove into them. He pulled Ed hard and tight against his chest and pressed his face into the side of Ed's neck. Ed immediately started to coo and tried to get his arms around Roy. “I'm right here, I'm right here, it's ok, I have you,” Ed chanted in a soft litany, trying to rock him back and forth. “We need to look you over, you took a bad fall and you hit your head on the wardrobe,” Ed murmured. “But it's ok, because I'm right here and I will be right here, so don't worry.”

“I love you,” Roy said suddenly, just feeling the need to vocalize it. “Don't ever turn away from me, alright? I love you, I'm the one who loves you without exception; without reservation. I'm the one who knows who you are and what you've done and I will always be the one that only loves you like this...so don't ever turn away. We have to always be together.”

“No, it's ok, whatever you say,” Ed babbled back. “I love you, too, you know that. I'm going to feel the back of your head, tell me if it hurts.”

“I mean it, Ed,” Roy said, voice rising a little, sounding a little desperate. Something in his tone stopped Ed's hand before it touched his head. Something made Ed just look at him and search his face with a beautiful, awful expression.

“I know you do,” Ed said quietly. “I know that Roy, don't ever doubt that.”

“Ok,” Roy said, almost a pant, “ok.”

Then he pulled Ed back to his chest and just held him there hard and tight for the longest time, and Ed let him, without comment or squirming. And when Roy felt quiet enough he eased up on Ed, let Ed pull him to his feet, check over his head and back and tug him to the bedroom. Roy paced, not wanting to get back on the bed and Ed just sat there patiently and waited.

He felt surreal and he felt insane and he felt alien to his own skin. So he focused on Ed; who sat there looking like he might burst into tears at any moment. He concentrated on what he needed to do to make that look go away. When he did crawl back up onto the bed, he let Ed draw him down and wrap around him.

He lay there, holding him and watching the play of shadows on the walls and trying very hard not to see anything in them.

“Maybe you should call in tomorrow,” Ed said softly. “You're going to be sore.”

“Riza would never have let me have a day for a bad dream,” Roy said, rubbing Ed's back, “sometimes I don't miss her,” and then he laughed a little and felt Ed's back slowly relax. This is what was needed. Ed pressed closer and Roy pulled the blankets up tighter. “I'm sorry I scared you,” he said quietly into Ed's hair.

“Yeah, well, not your fault,” Ed returned, “but try not to do it again in my lifetime, ok?”

Roy rested his lips against Ed's head so he really didn't have to answer. He knew better than to make promises he couldn't keep. After a while, the fall and rise of Ed's chest told Roy he was asleep. Protecting Ed was his job; it was what he was supposed to be best at doing. That, above all else, was a fundamental and unbreakable rule he'd set down for himself years ago. And he had the strangest sensation in his own skull; as if another presence was reading his rules and finding out which ones could be rewritten and which ones would lead to an inevitable meltdown. It seemed to decide that this rule could not be meddled with; this rule was among the sacred.

 _Damn straight_ , he thought to himself, then reached up to cover his face with a hand. What a fucking lunatic; he was a fucking lunatic.

He just had to hide it until he found out why.


	5. Chapter 5

The light made his eye water, but he sat still and gripped the edge of the examination table hard. The Doctor schooled his expression to indifference, but lifted his eyebrow a bit, here and there.

“The eye looks fine, General Mustang,” he said, one finger on Roy's eyebrow pushing up, one below his bottom eyelid pushing down. He'd gone through this many times soon after the gate had left him this way. The reactions had been a wild curve from miraculous to skeptical; but Roy could never understand the skepticism. What did they think, he grew his eye back? The doctor released his face and looked down at the chart sitting on the table by Roy's hip. Then he looked back up and leaned in close to look at Roy's eye again.

“What is it?” Roy asked, staring at the man's forehead.

“Well to be honest General, since this is a new eye perhaps it's acting like a new eye; like a baby's eye,” the doctor pulled back and picked up the chart again.

“I'm not following,” Roy said, shifting a little uneasily. “A baby's eye? What do you mean?”

“It appears it might be changing color,” the doctor said. “Since the only concrete evidence I have to go on is no evidence at all, then by speculation I can only assume this eye was newly grown; however improbably that might be. I've been your doctor for a number of years General, I tended that empty socket if you recall; so I can't help but be bewildered by not only your ability to regrow and eye but your seeming ability to completely restructure your face and regrow new tissue,” the doctor tapped his eyebrow.

Roy kept his head up and raised the eyebrow in question. He and the doctor regarded each other frankly.

“You have been told all I've been allowed to tell you,” Roy said. “If there appears to be nothing wrong with it, then I'll be on my way.”

“What did you think was wrong with it? You haven't even really told me that,” the doctor said, stepping back to make room for the general to slide of the examination table. “Tell me how your mental state has been lately; are you still experiencing your nightmares? That had seemed to settle down in recent years.”

Roy shrugged on his uniform jacket, adjusted his collar and began to button his jacket up. He took his time, neatening his cuffs and adjusting the flap on the front. He went to pick up his long coat and paused.

“I had a very vivid nightmare a few days ago,” the general said, looking at the door. “Much more vivid than any previous. It was a waking nightmare for all intents and purposes. Very unpleasant, stressed out my partner; I would say it was a level above my usual nighttime horrors.”

“And you think it was some physical ailment? I suppose stress and fatigue could play factors, but you specifically asked me to look at the eye.” The doctor leaned back against the exam table and folded his arms over his chest, pressing the chart there.

Roy still didn't turn to look at the man. Instead, he studied a medical chart, neatly framed and hanging on the wall by the door.

“I suppose I was just looking for a possible explanation,” the general said to the door, “things are easier to explain if there is some accompanying ache or pain. I really shouldn't have wasted your time.”

“I could set you up with psych...”, the doctor started, but then the general did turn to look at him, steely and closed.

“No,” the general said quickly, “that won't be necessary.” He dropped his eyes then, the first time since entering the office and shifted his long coat from one arm to another. “I appreciate the concern and I know it's your job. But you and I both know I'm prone to nightmares in the first place. I just hadn't had one in a while and I spooked myself, and Ed. I just want to be able to tell him I saw you if he asks.”

“Are you a superstitious man, General Mustang?” the doctor asked, leaning his head back a bit. “You would be surprised at the number of military men I've met in my day that put faith in things beyond the keen. Some people look at alchemy as a form of mysticism, and as an alchemist I'm sure you've dabbled in the meaning behind some of the symbolism you use.”

“I think every alchemist, by their very nature, must be a superstitious person; whether they believe it actively or not is up to the individual,” the general said.

“Alright, then let's go with another speculation,” the doctor said. “Let's say you didn't regrow the eye and tissue surrounding it. Let's speculate you appropriated the material from a source; say a corpse. There is conjecture that images seen in death can be retain in the retina of the eye of the deceased. I don't know if I prescribe to that theory, but that's the saying,” the doctor gave a half shrug of his shoulders.

“It's not appropriated material,” the general said flatly. “But thank you for your insight all the same.” And with that the general withdrew from the doctor's office and got into the car with the driver waiting and returned to his post.

**

“You're getting to be a regular visitor around here,” Al's assistant said. “Maybe you should look into working here.”

“Ah, no, I have a job, I'm just on a vacation,” Ed said, trying to be unobtrusive because he didn't want to get Al in trouble or anything, and truth be told he had been here every day this week. But what was he supposed to do? He'd already proven to himself his days of being able to work with or for Roy were long gone and he couldn't go over to the academy because Roy said that would look stalkerish. So his last option was of course his brother, who always had time for him before, but never an office before, or a job before, or an assistant who was keeping tabs before.

He really didn't want to get Al in trouble.

“You know, on second thought, I have an appointment,” he told the girl. “You just tell him I stopped by and I'll call him later, at his home, after work. I'll call him when he's not here because I don't want to bother him or get in the way of his working here, in this building and having a good job and just tell him I'll talk to him later,” and of course, that came across as completely lame and probably made her more suspicious and he turned to walk quickly back to the elevator and he stabbed at the button. But then he had to stand there and wait on the elevator and he just knew she was staring at his back so he turned around quickly and said: “I'm a teacher. In case Al hasn't told you, I teach, at the academy, the military academy. I teach alchemy. I'm an alchemist. I used to be a pretty famous one, you know, back in the day. But those days are over and I'm just a teacher now. That's all.” He heard the soft chime of the door behind him and whirled back and around and leaped into the elevator, startling another woman there and ducking his head to her. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, then he waved hastily to Al's assistant and sagged back against the elevator wall when the door closed. The woman in the elevator car with him edged away a little bit.

The door of Al's office opened and he stuck his head out and looked around. He looked at his assistant, sitting there behind her desk.

“Did I just hear my brother?” he asked. “I was on the phone.”

“I know,” she said, “and yes. He was here but then he left. But he left a long and rather convoluted message to tell you that he suddenly remembered he had an appointment and he would call you later, when you got home after work. At least, that is what I think he meant. Is he single?”

“No, he's firmly attached,” Al said, “and trust me it's better off that way.”

“Drat,” his assistant said as he turned to go back into his office.

**

He had nothing more than himself. So he stood there on the sidewalk wondering what to do with himself. If he thought about it, he never was very good at filling up all that time between being with one person and then the next. He was only good at it when he had studying to be done and books to be read; but he had none of that now. Now he filled up his time with people; and on his own he was stuck for what to do.

He picked a direction at random and just started to walk. He watched the sidewalk for a bit, then he watched the store fronts. He took his jacket off, still in the habit of dressing like he was going to class, and hung it back over his shoulder, shoving his other hand in his pocket. He stopped at a few places along the sidewalk, but couldn't be convinced to buy anything by anyone and that usually stopped all conversation with a sidewalk vendor. He found a small park he'd remembered seeing a few times he and Roy would drive around in this neighborhood and helped himself to a little bench just off the sidewalk under an old, shaggy tree.

On his own he was pretty pathetic, wasn't he? How did other people make having alone time seem so appealing? Roy often waxed poetic on having the office all to himself on occasion when he sent everyone out on errands. In fact he admitted to doing it quite deliberately and Ed suspected it was so he could catch an afternoon nap. Al had often told Ed how much he liked his study at home with its big oak door and the radio playing softly in the other room while Riza was out or on an errand. Al made it seem like having those few moments alone, not needing anyone else's company seem serene and valued.

Was it Ed's damage that he didn't get it? Even when he was alone in the study doing his work at home, the door was wide open. He was visited by R.D., he could hear Roy doing whatever it was Roy did when he was out of Ed's sight and not at the office. He _knew_ someone was there and that was more comfort to him than any alone time ever afforded him. Maybe it was because, in his early days, it was what he feared most: being alone. Being without his mother, losing Al, all these things held terror for him because his family had been his world and person by person, starting with his father, _(and of his father's own accord)_ they had all dropped out of his life. Even Al, trapped in armor, wasn't really there.

He glanced up at a man walking a dog into the park, then looked away again. He couldn't just go into a strange place and make himself at ease with the people there. Roy could, Roy could do anything and everything that had to do with people. Roy paved his way, eased him into introductions, settled conflicts and kept Ed in a sheltered bubble even in a room full of people. Roy was there to protect him. He should be able to handle these things on his own, he should make more of an effort, but it was easier for him when Roy was there, he knew it, he admitted it. The only successful relationships he had built in his adult life, _(other than his brother and the people he'd worked with since he was twelve)_ were his students and he was starting to get the uneasy feeling it was because he identified more with them than with any other adult person he'd run into. He was getting the uneasy feeling he _needed_ Roy's interference because on the whole, on the mental scale, perhaps he was still twelve.

See? This is what alone time did to him. It turned him into a gibbering, self-doubting wreck. And if he voiced any of this to Roy, Roy would immediately jump to placate him and assure him he was the most incredible thing on the planet, and while he liked to hear that he shouldn't have to be hearing it so often. What was he? Was he really twelve? In constant need of attention and reassurance from a suitable authority figure? When had he started such a deterioration? Such a regression? He rubbed at his face. What should really be worrying him was Roy. That is what he should really be doing with all this alone time; turning himself into a nervous wreck over the fact Roy seemed to be...what? Pulling away from him?

If he thought back on it, Roy did seem to be less and less forthcoming in the last couple of months. He was there, he was supportive, but in the end he wasn't entirely coming clean on what was going on around him. He only really answered to direct questioning and even then, Ed noted, with hesitation. Here Ed thought he knew the man inside and out, just another example of his complete and utter failure at adulthood. He was busy staring at his feet when he noticed a shadow cast over them. It didn't move for a few moments so Ed lifted his head and met his brother's eyes. Alphonse smiled at him, standing there with his hands in his pockets.

“What are you doing?” Al asked, tilting his head.

“At the moment?” Ed said, brows furrowing. “Trying to figure out if you're one of those illusions I used to have in moments of self doubt. Only back then you were still this giant suit of armor and I'm wondering if you are an illusion looking like flesh-and-blood-business-attire Al, if that is somehow indicative to the fact that my subconscious is growing up without me.”

“What the hell did you just say?” Al, but maybe not really Al, asked.

“What I'm saying is...,” but first he leaned forward and put a finger in his brother's stomach. Al looked down and snorted and then back up at Ed and Ed shrugged and withdrew his finger, “OK you seem real. So I guess what I'm saying is why the hell are you here? I'm going to get you fired!”

“No you're not,” Al said and waved his hand. “You forget, I'm the whiz kid now.” Al buffed his nails on his own vest and studied them before looking at Ed with a sympathetic tilt of his head. “I'm my own boss there because I produce results like no one else. I guess you have to share your pedestal of star Elric now.”

“What? No way, get your own pedestal. There is only room for one Elric who was alternately considered a freak and a menace and sometimes both at once. Trust me, you don't want to share mine, people look at you funny,” Ed said, leaning back into the bench and kicking his feet out. “So, now that I have successfully lured you away from a productive day of building things that make all other things look weak in the building field, what do you want to do?”

“I think I want to drink,” Al said. “Drinking in the afternoon is fun. When I drink in the afternoon at home _someone_ glances at the clock a lot but withholds comment on the fact I'm drinking before five. She's really good at that 'what you ought to be doing' guilt.”

“You are so whipped,” Ed said with a grin, then leaned forward and stood up. “But I'm all for drinking. Have a place in mind?”

“Just follow me,” his younger brother grinned.

**

The first pitcher of beer went the way of all good things in the prescribed manner of which pitchers of beer go. The opening conversation was a mish-mash of life among the normal people and how they remarkably fit in even though neither of them ever thought they would. It wasn't until the second pitcher of beer was ebbing low on the table between them that the conversation turned as it used to of old.

“I know you've heard me belly ache about this before,” Ed said, voice low, “but I cannot shake the feeling that there is something right under my nose and I'm missing the entire thing,” he shook his head and lifted his mug for a swallow. “I swear Al, it's just like it used to be with all the side stepping and making the obvious vague and it's really starting to piss me off. If I could just put my finger on it I'm sure it would all make sense. I know I'm talking in fucking cryptic circles but he's got me trained and I have yet to figure out how to separate what I think I know from what he thinks I know. Fuck, I wonder if it's the damn inertia. I can't believe I have to go through this for another whole week.”

Al signaled the waiter and placed another order and his elder brother lifted an eyebrow. In short order there was yet another pitcher of beer, this time accompanied by two shot glasses of whiskey. Edward knew this routine and this game. They first made themselves boiler makers, by dropping the whiskey shot, glass and all into a mug of beer and making a fine mess on the table. After that mug was consumed the two shot glasses found their way to the middle of the table and the brothers regarded each other over them.

“Is this your way of telling me you are tired of listening to me bitch?” Ed grinned. “I don't suppose you have any chalk on you. Seems unfair for me to clap these arrays.”

Al withdrew a stick of chalk from his inner jacket pocket, _(Ed thought his cleaner must have a field day getting chalk dust out of all his pockets)_ and broke it in half and offered half to his brother. Then the two of them go busy drawing small arrays on the tables and positioning their beer mugs within them.

“So are we chugging on every losing shot or the best two out of three?” Ed asked.

“Two out of three,” Al said, “we're already hedging the cusp as it is.”

There was some stooping and critical eying of mug positions within the arrays, and some last minute adjustments. Then, on the count of three, they activated their arrays.

Al's fountain of beer arched high and spiraled elegantly as it came back down. Unfortunately it hit the glass a little to the left, so while some beer made it into the shot glass, the majority landed on the table. His brother laughed loud and then watched as his own fount of beer erupted skyward like a volcano and seemed to make a crazy right angle and thundered down hitting the shot glass dead on, but with such force the beer sloshed out. Now they both stopped and peered intently into the shot glasses.

“Mine's fuller,” Al declared. “I'd say I take this round.”

Ed snorted but bowed to the obvious and they got busy lining their shots up again. A waiter approached them tentatively and stood worrying the bottom of his white apron in his fingers. Neither brother looked at him until the shots were lined up, then Ed did a slow turn of his head and stared at the young man hovering a few feet from the table.

“Yes?” the professor drawled slowly in the voice that made his students shrink down into the high collar of their uniforms while simultaneously made their balls draw up guaranteeing they would be altos for a few years longer. “What can I help you with?” Ed finished on the hint of a hiss.

“I was...that is,” the waiter gulped, “I was wondering if you gentlemen might want to move out to the patio? I'm sure I can get you a free pitcher for the inconvenience? It's just... you're making a slipping hazard here...” the man looked to be wilting under Ed's gaze.

“Of course we'll move,” Al piped up merrily. “Ed quit eviscerating him with your eyes, it's not his fault we're being slobs.” Al slipped off this bar stool and steadied himself against the table. “Come on, let's go get some air, wow I'm starting to feel it.”

Ed shoved away from the table as if this was a major insult, grabbed his mug and the shot glasses and stomped after the waiter as he hastened to open the door leading out onto the restaurant's patio. Once there he eyed the selection of tables before choosing one and giving a great show of how put-out he was to have been moved. Al ran into the back of the waiter, laughed and apologized and promised the man that he would not let Ed bite him, maul him or tongue beat him to death but only if the promised free pitcher of beer was real. Then Al almost fell over trying to get on up in the high chair and Ed grabbed at him from across the table and then Ed, Al and the table almost fell over but they all three saved themselves.

The sat in sort of embarrassed silence until the free pitcher arrived and then they just drank it straight up, game forgotten.

“I didn't wanna say,” Al slurred suddenly, “but all this stuff...this stuff you got you say with the General...all that stuff,” and he waved his hand in the air and at first Ed thought he was after a bug but then he realized Al was trying to make a significant hand gesture and failing dramatically. Al seemed to lose his train of thought for a moment, tilted his head back and stared up into the sky before bringing his chin back down and regarding Ed again. “All that stuff with the General being weird? Yeah, you know, you know him better than any of us so if you say he's weird, I believe you. Why would he be weird though? I mean... he never does anything without a motive.”

“I dunno, I dunno,” Ed whined back, sliding his beer mug back and forth on the table. “That's what I'm telling you. But if you believe me then something is weird and you know what... we gotta find out what's weird. He tells you things he don't tell me, DON'T SAY HE DOESN'T, because I know he does... you two are like gossips and shit, I should be pissed off about that, but that's beside the point,” Ed tapped his beer mug on the table now. “You, dear little brother, you are going to be my spy.”

“No, I wanna go home now,” Al said, making to get off the high chair, but hesitating at the climb down. “I wanna go home before you make me say I'll do awkward stuff that will make me uncomfortable or make me have to apologize a lot. I promised Riza I wouldn't let you talk me into any of that stuff anymore!”

“What are you? A man or a married man? Wait, a man or my brother? I think you were my brother before you were her husband is what I think! How can you turn your back on me?” Ed held up his hands and shook them, _that_ was dramatic. “I need you! You have to tell me if my General is doing bad things! Do you hear? Bad things and then, if he is? We have to... figure out why and talk him out of it!”

“Oh my god,” Al moaned, “he'll be so mad at me. I don't want him to be mad at me. He'll know, I'm not good at being covert, please don't make me do this.”

“This is your call to action Alphonse!” Ed said, slapping the table with his automail hand and making the mugs rattle. “What do you want to do? Be a man of action or be a man who draws on paper all day?!”

“I draw blue prints,” Al snarled back, slapping the table with his own flesh hand with much less dramatic effect, _(really, Al just sucked at drama)_ “it's not like I'm just doodling all day. It's my job! Don't look down on my job Mr. Fullmetal Alchemist! I don't wanna be your snitch, ask Havoc!”

“Havoc can get fired, you can't get fired,” Ed wailed. “I ain't looking down on your job you're fucking brilliant and that's why I want you to help me! You gotta it's like a rule that family has to help family, ain't it? That's like a law or something!”

“You're so full of shit,” Al muttered, elbow on tables, hands on his face making it all smooshed up and funny looking. “OK FINE, but when Riza pistol whips you I'm not going to get in the way. What is it you want me to do? You know I suck at espionage; it's a hold over from being seven foot of fucking armor that couldn't sneak around!”

“Take him to lunch,” Ed said waving his hands around, “and then pry all the information out of him, make your fucking puppy dog eyes at him or something, that always made him break before. You know you got him right here,” and Ed held up his smallest metal finger, “and he did whatever you told him to do even if I told him not to do it! You married the wrong person,” Ed ended on a snort.

Al made a swipe at him across the table but Ed jerked back and would have gone all the way over except his chair hit an empty chair behind him and gave him the split second he needed to grab the table and haul himself back upright. The sat and panted at each other a moment.

“I'm going home,” Al announced again and managed to get off the chair and stand there rocking slowly back and forth as if he were a daisy in a breeze. “I'm going home to my wife and maybe I'll drink some more and then I can forget this whole stupid conversation,” Al pointed at his brother, or he tried to, he kept pointing randomly at things around Ed's head. “You're a bad influence, I tried to ignore everyone all these years, but no, just because you're my brother and my hero and shit I went along with everything and I'm still going along with everything. You should be ashamed...ashamed,” Al spat.

“I'm not ashamed,” Ed said loftily, sliding out of his own chair, “because I'm just not. I'll take you home, you're drunker than shit.”

Between the two of them the managed to make an upright human letter 'A' and in this way they got to the curb and even managed to waved down a cab. Then Ed forgot where Al lived and Al forgot where Al lived and they both had to think on it a minute, then in desperation, because the cab driver was staring at them in the rear view mirror, Ed blurted out central HQ and after that they found themselves on the sidewalk outside the main gate being eyed by a couple of guards. They both kept trying to straighten themselves up and walk without clinging to each other and there was a lot of throat clearing and shuffling until they got where they could walk on their own, _(even though Ed kept putting his hand on Al's shoulder when he listed too much to the side)_ and they even managed to walk up to the guard house to get temp badges before heading for the main building.

Once inside the building they promptly forgot which floor were the offices of anyone they knew in the military. They milled about in the lobby restraining themselves from clinging to each other like two children lost in the woods when Havoc noticed them as he came back from an errand. They followed Havoc up to the correct floor with puppy like eagerness and Havoc was grinning like a loon and saluted them as he opened the door to the general's office for them.

Ed immediately found out if he could walk, he could run and he did so, straight into Roy's office around his desk and got in his lap. The general just sat there, pen still in hand, looking at Havoc over Ed's shoulder as Havoc prodded Al inside. Then Havoc saluted the general, too, and shut the door.

“He's asking to get fired,” the general mumbled and then half jumped when Ed wailed in his ear.

**

Every time he actually met his owner, face to face, he was different. Different in how he held his hands or how he said a word, or just different and it made Morgan increasingly nervous. The assignment tonight, like every other assignment he'd been given it was to be precise and without complications. The man really liked to keep things simple, so simple it would be. It was easy to lure the 3 and a half martini lunch man out of the bar and around the back of the building. It was easy to club him down when he stooped to pick up change he has dropped. It was easy to rifle though his pockets and come up with the envelope he was carrying for someone else. It was easy to take his wallet, too and dispose of it as he was told in some other location, empty of its contents. It was to look like a robbery and he was to help himself to any folding money still in the wallet when he took it, he was to consider it a bonus.

He carried the envelope back to the barracks, then locked himself in a stall in the bathroom and contemplated opening it. He held it up to the weak light shining down on him from the bulbs in the ceiling, but he couldn't make out any of the contents and his curiosity burned. The was the first time he was asked to be physical and the only surprise in getting the order was why it had taken so long to get to this point.

He decided he could make up some excuse about how the envelope got torn in the scuffle and pried the end of it open and fished the contents out with two fingers. There was a letter inside, wrapped around a couple of photographs. The letter was a hasty scrawl noting train schedules and office locations, the photographs were grainy and from strange angles. He recognized one of the men in the photos, some officer he'd seen before at HQ, but he didn't recognize anyone else. He blew into the end of the envelope to open it back up enough to slip everything back in place. It didn't really seem this was worth giving a man a concussion for, but he didn't question, it wasn't his place. His place was to do what the man told him to do and for the first time he found the authority didn't grate on him. Maybe he was good at this; maybe this was his calling. He'd read about this in pulp novels and seen it in crime movies. Maybe he was now an enforcer and that suited him just fine. He folded the end of the envelope over, then folded it in half and tucked it into the back pocket of his pants and left the bathroom.

**

Silence was a traditional Mustang rebuke. Ed got a lot of it as he sat in the office after his brother had been collected by his brother's spouse, _(he was quick to take the blame for the whole drunk in the afternoon thing but that had made Al even madder at him and Riza looked like she wanted to believe him but let his brother beat on him anyways yelling about how Ed was just some guilt whore and when was he going to get over it? Al then asked Ed how he managed to create so many historic and tragic events citing a time line from the pre-dawn of man, because if Ed was going to take the blame for everything then he should take the blame for EVERYTHING. This lead to a lot more uncoordinated slap fighting and then Riza just half cold-cocked Al and dragged him away. Riza didn't seem to understand the need the Elrics had to lambast each other)_ and Ed got a lot of it on the car ride out to the suburbs.

“Are you going to be mad at me all night?” Ed complained as Roy unlocked the door and stood back to let him walk in. “Let me know now because if you're gonna be mad at me all night there are other things I can do. At least this is more like you. I was beginning to wonder.”

Roy came in behind him, pulling the door shut and gave him a look as he headed down the hall to the coat closet. He shrugged off his great coat and opened the door to get a hanger, letting his coat drape over his arm. Something came out of an interior pocket and fluttered the floor. Ed had started up the hallway and stopped to bend over and pick it up. It was an envelope and no sooner had Ed straightened back up with it in his hand then Roy snatched it away.

“The fuck? I was only being helpful. You being mad at me shouldn't translate over when I'm trying to suck up to you by picking up shit you throw on the floor,” Ed groused.

“I'm not mad at you,” Roy finally lied, “and I'm sorry. This is work related,” he held the envelope up and shook it, “and not for your eyes Mr. Civilian.”

“Why the fuck is everyone mistering me these days? Al was calling me Mr. Fullmetal Alchemist at lunch,” Ed turned and went into the living room and fell over on the couch. “What the hell am I supposed to do all next week? I can't keep bugging Al and I don't want to be under your thumb. There has got to be something I can do around here next week.”

“Painting, yard work, dusting, give the cleaning lady a week off, that would be nice,” Roy tossed into the living room doorway as he went further down the hall toward the bedrooms.

“Oh you'd just like that,” Ed yelled from the couch. “You wouldn't have to pay her you colossal cheapskate...but I guess it's an idea,” he finished on a mumble. Ed pushed himself up from the couch and headed down to the bedroom, there he fell over on the bed and watched the general change from his uniform to some house clothes. “Do I get to paint the house any color I want to?” he asked.

“No,” Roy said, hitching up his pants. “If you want to paint the exterior we pick the color together.”

“Can I paint the inside walls any color I want?” Ed said, rolling over onto his back and hanging his head off the bed sideways to look at Roy upside down.

“No,” Roy said, turning to look at him, one hand on his hip. “Why are you asking such obvious no questions? I happen to know what your decorating skills are like. So the answer to all these color questions will be a resounding no.” Roy picked the envelope up from off the top of the dresser where he'd laid it while he was changing.

Ed stretched his arms up over his head and tried to grab Roy by his baggy house pants. He managed to snag the side and gave them a firm yank, pulling them down his hip and making his stagger a couple of steps toward the bed. Once that was accomplished Ed was able to grab Roy's baggy house pants with both hands and he held on tight, grinning up at the general.

The general stood, his prisoner, looking down at him, but the corners of his mouth began to curl up. He tried to take a step back but Ed bared his teeth and tightened his fingers and the general gave a soft chuckle.

“Ok,” Roy said, “I'm not mad anymore. Let go so I can go make you some dinner.”

“Why don't you stay right here and make me your dinner,” Ed said and wiggled his eyebrows. “I'm a lot fresher than anything you got in the icebox,” and he scooted his ass up and down on the comforter for effect.

Roy grinned down at him, then leaned over and rubbed Ed's stomach and Ed put his heels on the bed and lifted his stomach so Roy could rub it even more.

“I agree you are the freshest thing in the house,” Roy said, rubbing Ed's stomach in a slow, circular motion. “But I want to see if all your body parts are on board with this skipping dinner idea your horny parts have come up with.”

Ed reached up, ran his arm up Roy's arm and hooked his hand behind his neck and tugged. Roy leaned over when tugged on and negotiated a kiss upside down. When he pulled back up he tilted his head at Ed and cocked an eyebrow and he looked so much like Roy Mustang in that moment Ed almost felt tears.

“Don't do this to me,” Ed said out loud before he realized he'd said it and Roy's brows drew down in confusion a second before lifting again in amusement.

“Make you choose between sex and food? I am being cruel to you, aren't I?”

What a perfect out and so Ed took it.

“You are a cruel man, so let me up, I'm starving,” Ed said, with a little shove and sat up on the bed with his back to Roy.

If Roy could hide things, then he could, too. He would hide the fact he was going to find out what Roy was hiding and he would use any means possible and any help he could get.

And he would tell his heart to shut up, because sometimes you had to do what you had to do no matter who you had to do it to; those lessons never let go.

“I'll meet you in the kitchen,” the general said behind him and Ed heard him turn and walk out of the room.

Ed knew then he needed a few pointers on how to manipulate the master manipulator and, unfortunately, he knew just who he had to enlist.


	6. Chapter 6

He trailed a few steps behind. He was not to speak, that was fine he wouldn't know what to say anyway. He had no illusions about his role in things. He simply drove the car to the appointed place and followed the man into a darkened building on the outskirts of the warehouse district in the less desirable parts of Central. They paused before entering, the general took a pair of gloves from his pocket and slipped them over his hands. Morgan was no fool and knew who the man was and what he was capable of doing; that had never been a secret. The general gestured for him to open the doors and he did, standing back to let the man proceed him through and then coming after him, pulling the door shut. The sound it made echoed around the open space and almost made him jump despite the fact he'd made the sound himself. He released the door and hurried to catch up to the general who was already heading across the dim vastness. It amazed him how his footsteps bounced around in the same way the sound of the door shutting had, but the general's footsteps were practically silent.

Two figured seemed to emerge from the shadows there, near the back of the warehouse and Morgan could hear them as they walked toward them, looking to meet them about half way. The general came to a stop and he came to a stop a few steps behind him. He was not not in uniform and neither of the two men coming toward them seem to be in uniform either, but he could tell by the way the man in the lead carried himself, he was without doubt an officer. Morgan took a little comfort from the weight of his gun at his side, strapped in a shoulder holster beneath his jacket and at the arsenal of fire that stood a few feet before him. The other two men came to a stop a little ways away and there was silence for a few moments.

“You really should monitor your men more closely,” the general said quietly and the other man seemed to stiffen a bit, he made a dismissive snort. “Don't be like that Wills,” the general continued, “you're not new to this game. It seems your boy McFarland found out a few things he shouldn't and I'm here as a reasonable man to...well I'm not going to offer an explanation, but I'm here to find out what compromise can be reached. You understand my position I'm sure.”

“I've always heard you were the man to watch, Mustang,” Wills returned, tight jawed. “I just didn't know it meant watch your back, we're suppose to be on the same side,” Wills looked at Morgan then, briefly, then away. “I know it's common courtesy to try and sort this out amongst ourselves seeing as we are rank, but this one is starting to leave a bad taste in my mouth.”

“You know everything I do is for the glory of Amestris, I'm insulted you think otherwise,” the general said, turning away from the man in front of him slightly, ”even if said cure can sometimes be worse than the symptom. I know my records states that if nothing else. What I might or might not be negotiating is best left under wraps at the moment to avoid certain confusion and anxiety among our peers.”

“So I'm to just keep this discovery our little secret?” Wills said. “You are talking about armaments that could start and finish a war, and worse? You are talking about them across the border and not in our own back yard. That reeks of the mighty t-word Mustang and it's more than enough to sink anyone into the lowest level of Briggs prison. I don't think I will be willing to take that risk and I don't think you could ever make the deal sweet enough.”

The general sighed and turned back to the man in front of him.

“Everyone is their own worst prognosticator,” he said, “what makes you think you know what my intentions are? I'm always vilified for my unrelenting arrogance, but really it's my humble nature that tempers me in all ways. I merely wish to borrow your trust for a while. I'm not above disclosure or even alliances,” the general folded his arms. “I know you've been in your current position for a while, Brigadier General Wills. It always helps to have support from superior officers when moving up the chain. I make sure my people are well taken care of, just look at my current staff.”

“No, this is too volatile, this could blow up, literally, in all our faces.” Wills shook his head, took a half step back. “You can't talk me on board, but you can explain it to the military when I make my report.”

“This pains me,” the general said he he suddenly _moved._ Morgan had been watching the man behind Wills, in case he tried anything funny, and he only caught a flash of the general's movement, but then the general was there, right in front of Wills; and the general had his fingers under Wills' chin and Wills had gone very still, as had the man behind him.

“Now, I'd like to see you report this,” the general said lowly, “because you and I both know that no one would believe you. I have it already set up that way and as for the person who 'knew' you were coming here in case things got... out of hand? They knew that for me. So don't think I don't already own you. I really, really despise people being contrary when I know they fail to wrap their head around the big picture. There are two scenarios here. The first one is that we come to an accord, you listen to my plans and you understand them and you are nice and quiet until the time comes that I tell you that you can act. The second is that you and your companion disappear and are never heard from again,” the general gave another heavy sigh, “I so hate strong arm tactics. Look what you've forced me to do.”

“People would be suspicious of my disappearance,” Wills said and his throat worked against the scratchy white knuckles the general had pressed there.

“Oh they would,” the general said, “but no one really knows about McFarland standing there behind you. Don't you see my all too perfect spin? This is what knowing the big picture gets you Wills. See, McFarland dug up some dirt on some armament deals that were supposed to be very hush hush. He tracks these deals right back to our own headquarters and he confronts you; perhaps he has blackmail on his mind? My name is brought up in connection, of course it is, I'm part of the homeland security contingent, of course there are concerns were I to find out. You and McFarland cannot come to terms, he kills you, hides your body and returns to Drachma where he is so very effective at blending in; because that is his expertise. I'm left with picking up the negotiations since they've already been made, albeit in secret, because they can't be unmade now. There is a huge public stink, but I am confident I can arrange a deal that will satisfy everyone and I save the day, yet again. I'm rather good at it. The Cretans might hate me for a while, but then we can just sell arms to them, too, can't we?”

“You act like you want to start a war,” Wills said in a strangled way, “is that what you really want?”

“Not here,” the general said evasively, “everything here has been ruined and well, we have to start over somewhere.”

Wills moved then himself, jerking his head back and turning, but it really took no time to snap fingers. The other man stood frozen as the pillar of fire seemed to reach for him before he to tried to run, but there was no running. Morgan stood, his hand was on the pistol in his armpit and he jerked it, getting it tangled, making a mess of getting it out of the holster. This was too much, this was too deep and all he had to do was get the gun out while they were distracted, then he could be free of everything and he could say...he could say the general forced him. But the general was turning toward him now, his face seemed to register some disappointment and his eyes seem to see straight from hell.

“I always found my subordinates were more reliable when I created them,” the general said in a voice Morgan had never heard and as Morgan ripped the gun free at last and went to raise it the general did not snap his fingers at him, instead he raised his hands and clapped them together, looking for all the world like he was praying. Then the floor opened up and Morgan and his gun dropped through and the floor, closed up tight and sealed him in forever.

**

Writing long-hand was something he'd worked hard to master at an early age. When his natural right limb had been taken from him he'd been forced to switch over to his remaining flesh appendage. He use to try to write with the automail, in the beginning, but because it was the beginning he was never very good at it and ended up gouging the desk beneath the paper. He'd just grown accustomed to it after that, even though now he was fairly sure he could write with the automail.

He didn't want to letter to sound to needy; or like it was anything other than some friendly advice. He could just imagine the prince, there in his palace, letting all his servants read it and then all of them having a good belly laugh over it, like 'I told you so'. _How do I even know you read these letters?_ He scratched in the margin. _How do I even know it's you writing the letters back?_ He added that into the margin as well. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe he was just imagining things and maybe, fuck just maybe he should stop continually second guessing himself. He'd forgone going into Central with Roy today so he could write his letter without Roy's knowledge. Tomorrow he'd have to smuggle it in and then drop by Al's office to have Al mail it; or have Al's assistant mail it; or whatever. Al having a subordinate still rankled him a little; he'd told himself long ago not to think of his students as _subordinates_. What the hell had the military done to him, besides give him Roy?

After fourteen false starts, three and a half written pages and about a million edits he gave up and decided to send it as is and if Ling was as smart as Ling thought he was, he'd figure it out. So now what was there to do? He should work on class assignments and next semester's topics, he should do that. That was the reasonable and sensible thing to do with all this extra time on his hands. He should make himself ready to make his re-entrance into academia with a bang. He could sit here and dig through Roy's desk, like he kept telling himself he shouldn't. Roy's desk might not look organized but Roy knew _(usually)_ where everything was, and if Ed got anything out of place then Roy would know that Ed had been rifling through his desk and Roy wouldn't let it go until Ed was oh...forty or so.

So instead of doing anything reasonable or sensible or subversive he decided to call Al and see if Al was working on his own subversive plan. Al's assistant answered and Ed thought it would probably be a good idea to find out the girl's name, but before he had a chance to ask her he was promptly buzzed through into his brother's office.

“This is Alphonse,” Al said even though Ed knew the nameless girl who was Al's assistant had told Al who was on the phone.

“I know your name,” Ed returned, “what are you doing?”

“Playing redundant questions with my brother over the phone,” Al said, “what are you doing?”

“Calling my brother who is a smart ass to ask him non-redundant questions,” Ed snorted, drumming his fingers on Roy's desk.

“Is that so? What sort of non-redundancy did you have in mind today?” Al continued. Ed could hear paper rustling in the background and the scratching of a pencil.

“I want to know when you are going to ask Roy out to lunch,” Ed said. “Sometime this week would be preferable since I have the rest of it off and can drop by afterwards for a debriefing. How about tomorrow? I'm coming in tomorrow, oh I have a letter I need you to mail, and I could just say, go do my own stuff until you're through then I can drop by afterwards. That sounds like a plan. Are you going to call Roy today?”

“About that,” Al said, “I don't even really know what I'm supposed to be asking him about, I mean you might need to give me some pointers, hang on let me get my notebook.” Ed heard the clunk on his end as the phone was set down on the desk and he heard what he thought was the opening of drawers. It made him finger the long drawer on the front of Roy's desk, but he restrained himself and instead studied a spot on the ceiling until Al returned.

“Ok,” Al said, “so how do you think I should play this? You know the General is like the master of word play and talking him into talking about things he might not want to talk about seems impossible.”

“You just start off slow and casual,” Ed said, leaning back in the chair. “I mean the usual stuff...how you been? How is the General thing working out for you? That sort of thing.” Ed could hear more pencil scratching, Al was taking notes and that was good.

“I could ask him if you've been driving him crazy these last two weeks,” Al put in, “but what do I tell him about you not being with me when I invite him to lunch. I mean I think he will think it's weird that you came into town with him and you aren't having lunch with us, don't you think?”

“No, look I told you just tell him I'm off doing things, just things, he'll get that. I do things all the time. Inexplicable things according to him, he won't expect details,” Ed said. “And you can leave out that stuff about me driving him crazy, because I'm not.”

“No I can't,” Al said. “That would be weird. I always ask him stuff like that, he might get suspicious.”

“Is that so?” Ed said, sucking the inside of his cheek. “And what does he usually say when you say stuff like that?”

“Nothing I'm going to tell you, forget that. Look, so after you know the normal small talk then what, I mean, I'm not sure how to lead into finding out anything pertinent to what you are looking for when really I don't know what you are looking for; I guess I could say 'so the weather has been good, are you getting involved in anything covert we should know about?' I'm sure that will open him right up and I'll take copious notes and you'll be happy and this will be over with. Why did I let you talk me into this?”

“Accident of birth,” Ed replied, looking on Roy's desk for a pen so he could doodle on Roy's blotter. “Listen, I know this is a lot to ask of you and I wouldn't do it unless it was important; so I thank you in advance and I will find some way to make it up to you, ok?”

“There is no making this up to me,” Al huffed into the phone, “you're making me spy on a family member, and really, I think that's very low.”

“You are really good at trying to worm your way out of this and yet making me feel horrible guilt at the same time. Really little brother, you should give lessons,” Ed sighed and slouched back in the desk chair. “Do you really think it's low?”

“What if Roy asked me to spy on you, what do you think I'd say?” Al said, sounding exasperated.

“I think you already spy on me for Roy, but ok fine, I set you free Alphonse, you are no longer my spy, does that make you happy?” Ed groused, thunking his head back on the chair. “I'll just confront Roy myself, you know, pistols at noon and the whole thing. Why isn't this week over already?”

“Ok now I feel guilty, dammit Ed,” Al sighed. “I'll just stop by tomorrow at his office and just test the waters, alright?”

Ed sat forward grinning, even though Al couldn't see him.

“Yeah, that's fine, just stick your big toe in and tell me what you think. Really Al, you're the best,” Ed said.

“The best at being a sucker I'm sure,” Al said, “later Ed.”

“Later!” Ed said cheerfully and his brother hung up the phone.

**

Dinner that night was quiet and afterwards Roy seem to be having a stare off with the evening paper, but not in the way that would indicated he was actually reading. Ed bounced from room to room with R.D. hot in pursuit and made occasional recons into the living room to see if Roy was still sitting there in a self induced not -disguised-by-the-evening-paper, trance. Part of him wanted to confront this Roy turned statue and part of him said he should wait for tomorrow so that Alphonse could feel Roy out. Both parts were anxious and didn't help in his slow trawl of the house in any way.

On perhaps his third peek in at the General the General actually spoke, he said: “Are you going to prowl from room to room all night?”

“Actually I'm testing air speed velocity in the house,” Ed remarked loftily. “For example, you claim I bring home all kinds of cold germs from the academy and you insist if you sit in another part of the house you won't catch whatever bug I've managed to pick up; but, inevitably, you get the cold anyways. So, what I'm doing is following the flow of air through the house to find out just where the current goes, for example, which room has the most draft or is in the path of whatever air seems to be circulating inside the house at the time. By doing this I might be able to detect just how often and when you need to change rooms when I'm home with a cold so the cold germs don't get to you. It would you require you to be pretty adaptable to mobility throughout the house all night, including when we are going to go to bed.”

Roy was looking at him blandly, still holding his paper upright.

“What might actually facilitate my not catching a cold from you is for you to refrain from sticking your tongue in my mouth while you are sick,” he said, shaking his paper.

“That seems cruel to withhold affection from a sick person,” Ed sniffed.

“I would never do such a thing,” Roy said and Ed took that as an invitation to come into the room and straddle Roy's lap as Roy sat on the couch. Roy tried to save his paper, but it got all crinkled against his chest because Ed was demonstrating just what Roy would be missing if Roy decided to forgo Ed's tongue while Ed was sick. Roy managed to pull the paper from between them, _(only ripping it a little)_ , while remaining attached to Ed's mouth. Then Roy put his hands all over Ed's ass while Ed was attached to his mouth and Ed pulled back and licked his lips.

“You're feeling up my ass like you've never touched it before,” Ed said a little breathless, “and I know you have, sometimes I have hickeys on it to prove it.”

“Must be that damn air speed velocity rushing past the couch while I'm trying to feel you up,” Roy purred.

Ed threaded his fingers into the hair above Roy's ears and Roy obliged him in trying to offer up the tonsils Ed was trying to suck out of his head. Eventually things got too squirmy for the couch and Roy tried to stand up and keep Ed in his lap at the same time; but gravity and his back muscles had a say and therefore Ed slid off into the floor but was pulled back to his feet and hustled down the hallway to the bedroom by a hand tightly around his wrist.

They tangled up and managed to fall on the bed together, then there was much masculine grunting as they tried to disrobe each other and kept getting in each other's way.

“Let me get you naked,” Roy panted as Ed tried to chew his chin off, “then I can put my hands back on your ass, you like that.”

“I'm always naked first, let's break the rut we've fallen into,” Ed panted back, releasing Roy's chin to do so. “I think you should be naked first and then I can lick your outer layer of skin shiny, let's do that,” Ed wheedled.

“Well, I suppose if you insist,” Roy said, dragging at his own clothes now, but they even got in each other's way doing that because Ed still insisted on helping.

When Roy had his briefs and pants around his ankles Ed decided that was enough and Roy was likewise satisfied with Ed's state of mostly undressed. There was no need for exploration, each of them had already mapped the other very well and they knew just where to go in order to get to what they really wanted and that was making the headboard slap the wall. Roy began pawing around the edge of the mattress near the headboard.

“You've moved the lube,” Roy complained, “you never put anything back where you got it from!”

“You know I don't think about it usually afterwards,” Ed retaliated, “that should be a fucking compliment. You know, afterwards I just want to lie there and seep into the mattress. Just get the lube from the bedside table, there's lube there!”

“I can't reach it,” Roy grunted, not really making an effort because it would mean moving and moving meant peeling himself off of Ed and he didn't want that. “This is why I have a little bottle of lube for tucking under the mattress. Great, it's probably fallen out and rolled under the bed.”

“R.D. probably got it,” Ed said, dragging his fingers up and down Roy's naked hips, “you're just going to have to get the lube in the table.”

Resigned, Roy pushed himself up on his hands and started to move, but Ed immediately wrapped his legs around him and Roy paused, looking down at him and lifting one eyebrow.

“What are you doing?” Ed whined, sliding his hands down Roy's side and over his hips to grab his ass. “Don't get off, I'll get cold,” he wheedled.

“How do you propose I get the lube, then?” Roy questioned, letting Ed keep him prisoner.

“Let's go together,” Ed said, squirming and Roy groaned softly and licked his lips, arching into Ed harder to take advantage of the squirming.

So, together they scooted across the bed until Roy could reach the bedside table by stretching and Ed steadied him, hands on Roy's ass, fingers doing questionable things, until Roy managed to get the lube. Roy did the manly thing of trying to uncap the lube with his teeth, but apparently Roy wasn't manly enough to do it and Ed grabbed it away from him and uncapped it the regular way. Then they both got messy because Ed squeezed the uncapped bottle too hard, but that was ok, Roy could just smear his hand in the puddle of lube on Ed's chest to get what he needed. Roy then rolled them onto their sides so it was easier to get to the part of Ed he needed to lubricate and Ed decided he needed to try and suck Roy's Adam's apple through the skin of his throat while Roy was applying the lubricant.

“How is it we've ever managed to have sex in the past?” Roy panted, sounding half strangled because Ed hadn't given up his grip on Roy's throat.

Ed released in throat in order to answer him: “I'm not sure, it defies all logic. Two men, one of them a considerable amount of years younger, both in the military as subordinate and commanding officer, both almost dying a number of times...really it defies the odds.”

“What it actually did was manage to defy a court martial,” Roy grunted, trying to roll Ed onto his back. Ed had to kick savagely to get his pants off one ankle so he was able to spread his legs to let Roy lie between them properly. Roy moved between them and for a few moments they both turned their concentration on carrying out the activity they'd been struggling to achieve. For some reason, neither felt particularly rushed now, so it was a comfortable rocking, a sensation of being joined and the intimacy that brought. It gave them time to kiss and stroke, touch and feel their partner. It wasn't until the very end, like always, that things got a bit frenzied. Roy complained of Ed bruising his hip with an automail knee and Ed complained that if Roy caught on to the 'faster/harder' moments of their sex life that he wouldn't have to remind him by bashing him with said automail knee.

Roy returned he wasn't a mind reader and Ed smelled like lube. The Roy got pushed off and it took a bit of groveling before Ed let him cuddle up so they could go to sleep.

**

When Ed woke again it wasn't morning. It wasn't morning and there was no Roy, there in bed. It wasn't morning, there was no Roy and that just didn't fit the pattern that Ed had become accustomed to in his life. It took several moments of lying there blinking sleepily until he realized there truly was something odd about it being dark and Roy being absent; especially after sex. Roy slept like the dead after sex. So despite his own deadness he decided to get up, find out what the fuck Roy was doing, give Roy a piece of his mind for waking him up by not being in bed with him and then drag the insufferable bastard back to bed so they could get back to sleeping. That is if Roy wasn't in the bathroom. If Roy was in the bathroom at this time of night, something disagreeable and food related was usually involved and Ed had learned to stay well away from _that_. But Roy wasn't in the bathroom and that in of itself was worrisome. Ed picked Roy's shirt up from the floor and shrugged it on and ventured out into the hallway. R.D. met him there with a small whine, barely audible, then trailed him down the hall as Ed went from room to room. Ed turned into the main hall and saw the dim glow of light spilling from the door of the study, so he went there and stood in the doorway. He tilted his head, eyes adjusting to the light and trying to understand the scene before him. Books and papers were stacked on the floor and both of the desks, drawers hung open and every closed thing in the room, including the phonograph, stood open. Roy was sitting in his leather chair, wearing his robe, but it looked to be untied and when he heard Ed he lifted his head slowly and turned to look at him. That was when R.D. signaled his departure by the click of his nails on the hardwood back up the hallway and Ed was left there alone trying to figure out just what he was seeing.

“What are you doing?” Ed finally managed to ask, his voice still subdued by his recent sleep. Roy sat expressionless for many moments before he spoke.

“It's nothing, what are you doing up?” Roy asked in a voice that seemed an imitation of his real speaking voice. He slowly closed the folder he had been studying and laid it with other things piled on the desk.

“You weren't in bed,” Ed said bewildered and for the life of him he could not set foot into the room. There was just something off, some aura he couldn't identify and he hoped it was just sleep disorientation and not a true feeling of someone else there, in Roy's skin. Roy stood slowly, moved to walk toward him and Ed grabbed the door jamb in order to keep from backing away.

“It woke you up that I wasn't in bed with you?” Roy said as he got close. “That's charming,” and he reached up to cup Ed's cheeks.

Ed kept staring at his eyes and then Roy's hands were on his face and Roy's face was bending close and then Roy kissed him. He tasted the same, he smelled the same, but he didn't kiss like Roy Mustang kissed Edward Elric and what could Ed do but just stand there?

“Let me take you back to bed,” Roy murmured after he finished the kiss in which Ed didn't really participate. “I'm sorry I woke you up.” Roy went back into the room to shut off the lamp and Ed just watched him. Ed let Roy touch him, guide him back to the bedroom. Ed let Roy pull the shirt off of him and Ed let Roy climb into bed behind him and push up against his back. And all the while he has the strangest thoughts in his head. That Roy in bed with him wasn't really Roy even thought it looked like him. It was a different Roy, it was almost as if there real Roy was somehow in there, but asleep and this other Roy, the Roy he didn't know was awake now.

But how absurd was that?

He gasped and jerked when a hand slid down his bare stomach, settled between his legs and fingers wrapped around his cock. Teeth clamped lightly on his earlobe and an evident erection from his lover pressed into the small of his back.

Roy that wasn't Roy didn't speak, he just made a grumbly growling sound, arched his erection and ground it against Ed's back and began to tug Ed's cock and suck on his earlobe. But it didn't feel right and that was absurd because this was _Roy_. Ed took deep breaths, struggled to relax, struggled to _respond_ , but he found he really didn't have to worry. The hand released him abruptly, and he was pushed onto his stomach and he was prepared and he was mounted and never once did any part of Roy move to satisfy any part of Ed after releasing his cock. So Ed bit the pillow to keep himself from questioning just who was on his back and never felt so relieved when Roy finished, rolled off of him and went to sleep.

  
 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a current Work In Progress.

Alphonse Elric sometimes wondered if he should test the theory of blood is thicker than water in some scientific fashion if only to prove there was a chemical that made one helpless to the outlandish requests of ones siblings. He nodded politely to the secretary outside the General's office, took a deep breath as she announced his presence and held the door, and then he walked through.

The General looked pretty much the way he always did; slightly harried, uniformed and sitting behind his desk. He did smile when Al came in, made the appropriate gesture at a chair in front of his desk and quickly signed off on whatever he'd been working on before Al came to visit. He placed his arms on his desk, threaded his fingers together and gave Al his now undivided attention, as he'd always done in the past.

He seemed exceedingly normal, and yet, according to Ed, he was anything but. And Al really didn't know how to start this off, how to allude to what he didn't know to allude to and how not to implicate his brother in the process; so the answer became easy, he wouldn't. He wouldn't make it so it seemed Ed put him up to this, he would make it so it seemed he'd come to these observations on his own. Even if he wasn't sure what sort of observations it was he was suppose to be making; and he couldn't let the General pick up on that because Alphonse was suppose to the master of observation.

"What brings you here today, Alphonse?," the general asked as the opener and Al, who'd never known the man to be anything but honest with him decided to give him the frank and honest benefit of the doubt.

"I'd like to say I'm was stopping by because I was in the area," Al said, "but that wouldn't be the truth. general, you and I have a lot of history. We are friends, we are brothers-in-law truth be told and I've always felt that no matter what the situation I could rely on you to at least hear me out and give me your opinion in good faith."

"What's Ed done this time?" the general asked.

"For once, it's not about Ed," Al said, permitting himself a small smile, "shocking, I know. For once it's more about myself and the way I observe day to day matters. As you know it was my favorite past time for many years and I've gotten rather professional. I can no longer just give someone a passing glance, I have to make an instant and total observation. It's annoying sometimes, it's invaluable sometimes. And sometimes, it can be... confusing. I've never thought of myself as being an expert on a persons motivations, even though I might be able to divine them given enough time to study the situation; but that's rarely the case. Also, I find that like most professionals, I tend not to apply my talents around me directly, for instance in the example of immediate family."

The general had gone from having his fingers laced before him on the desk, to raising his arms to have his chin resting on them as Al talked. He lifted an eyebrow.

"So, who in the immediate family is in the doghouse? Let me hazard a guess, it's not yourself, it's not your wife and you have exonerated Ed, so that leaves...me. Have I been a bad General?" the general teased.

"I would never imply you've been bad General," Al teased back, "but more you've been a bit mysterious lately. I'm not good at these confrontations as you can tell, but you have been a bit more, how to say it? Not forthcoming? I know that there are certain things not privy to the non-military among us, but you usually have some anecdote for lessening the blow of having to tell one of us it's none of our business. I'm not implying I feel slighted, but more like I feel helpless in being able to share your burden?"

"And what burden would that be?" the general asked.

Now Alphonse was caught flat footed, because truly, what could the general possibly of done to effect him directly enough to bring this up in the first place. He groped blindly for a moment before latching on to a bit of dinner conversation he'd had with Riza a week or two previously. But he couldn't come right out and say that he and Riza were discussing such matters openly as they might be proprietary and Riza was not there to confirm or deny this, so instead, he chose Riza herself.

"Well, Riza has felt you are under some stress," Al broached carefully. "Without elaborating she mentioned you were having a problem with some fellow officers from another unit? She really didn't give any names or details, only mentioned you though possibly there was some further training needed in the matters of homeland security?"

And Roy changed, right there before Al's eyes. His shoulders lifted, his lips flattened and his eyes, his eyes moved into a new light as if the lighting in the very room suddenly shifted to suit this new mood, this new Roy, and he let one side of his mouth curl up in what would usually be a comforting half smirk, but only this wasn't the comforting one, more like the sardonic twin who was trying to cover for it's more acceptable relation.

"Did she?" Roy said in a way that made Al himself sit up straighter and feel an uncharacteristic twinge of protectiveness.

"She spoke in regards to your well being, if that is what you are asking," Alphonse said, a little more tersely than he intended.

"All of you, such worry warts," the general said, but not in the way the general would normally say it. It was if it was spoken with a resentment. A resentment that people would deign to assume he needed anyones concern. It spoke of an arrogance far beyond any the general had ever displayed in the past and it made Al shift a little in his seat.

"We can't help it," Al supplied, because he felt that was what he would have normally said himself in the case they were acting normally. And wasn't it funny that they would act normally even in the abomination of normal this conversation has become. He'd never once wished for an instance where he couldn't read as well as he could until now; because...who was this?

"I assure you I'm fine," the general said loftily, "and I appreciate the concern, but I am also confident you can appreciate that there are some conditions that come with the position that are going to make me seem a little stand offish at times, you should be use to that."

"Of course," Al said, watching the man's face. "I realize that, I just didn't want you to think we'd all become so numb to it as not to ask if we felt the need. I at least want you to know I still care and I'm here for you, just like always."

Not that this general would be taking advantage of Al's sympathetic ear.

"I haven't forgotten," the general said, as if seeking to mollify and dismiss, so Al took advantage of that and stood.

"I don't want to keep you, General," he said. "Maybe if you're free for lunch sometime in the future?" Al made a little bob of his head and the general nodded.

"I'll let you know, thank you for stopping by Alphonse, a pleasure as always," the general said lightly but his eyes looked at Al in heavy, calculating way. Sometimes Al wondered if that was what he looked like when he was sizing people up, trying to read their minds by reading their reactions.

Al gave another brief bow of his head and turned and left. He left with a deliberation he hoped showed he was letting the matter drop, but knowing the general, or this version of the general, would surely know otherwise. He needed to regroup, he needed to think, but there was one thing that was clear. There was something going on with the general.

Ed had been right.

**

When he met with Ed later that afternoon there wasn't much to say. The sort of looked at each other and Al said quietly: "I'll try to find out as much as I can." Ed nodded, handed Al an envelope addressed to a foreign country and said: "We're going to need some outside perspective, and he was always good at the... feelings of mumbo-jumbo, get that to him as fast as you can."

And Al took the letter and had it sent.

**

The worst part, of course, was having to act normal. Ed was never a very good actor, so for the most part he submerged himself in his work as he would be returning the beginning of the next week. Roy, the real Roy, the one with Roy's eyes would come and stare at him from the doorway of the study sometimes, looking confused and a little lonely, so it wasn't easy. But that Roy was only around for the day _(or most of the day, sometimes that was suspect, to)_ and dinner, after a while, when the sun was firmly settled he would leave and leave Ed there alone with himself who wasn't.

It was nothing short of terrifying, really.

He sat tensed and nervous, his briefcase against his chest like a shield on the drive to his job on his first day back. Roy kept looking at him, questioning him with his eyes and it seemed to be the right Roy, but Ed was always afraid he'd say something wrong to the right Roy and vice versa; so he stayed silent, staring at the dashboard.

"You can't be this nervous," Roy said, making his tone as light as he could, trying in vain to hide the concern there. "It's only like your back from spring break; they will all remember you."

Ed risked a side long glance at him and Roy broke into a hopeful smile and Ed's heart clenched in his chest. He looked quickly away.

"Ed, have I done something to upset you?" Roy asked quietly. "Remember our promise about dark places?"

"It's not you," Ed said quickly, because really, it wasn't Roy.

It was that other Roy.

"I can't help but think that it is," Roy continued, "you've been so...distant this last week. I want to tell myself it's because you're getting ready to head back into your classroom, but I can't shake the feeling it's more than that."

"Well it's just your imagination," Ed tried, leaning into the door. "I just have a lot on my mind. I'm wondering how warped they've become in my absence. I worked hard to get them where they are now and I don't like this gap I was forced to make in turning them into the next generation of super alchemists, that's all. It's nothing to do with you."

 _It's everything to do with you._

Roy went quiet after that, and it wasn't much longer they were pulling up to the curb outside the academy.

"If you're sure," Roy said.

"I'm sure," Ed returned, kissed in his general direction without connecting and sprang out of the car and ran up the steps and into the building.

**

Everyone was staring at him. They stared at him when he came in the door, the stared at him as he walked to his desk, they stared at him while he took off his jacket and hung it on the coat tree. There was an awful lot of staring. He pulled his chair out, but took a moment to look at the notes laid neatly out on his desk in Miss Bloom's handwriting. He glanced up at the assembled class wondering if he'd ever have their attention so raptly again and then wondering if he should take advantage of this golden opportunity. He put his hands on his hips and cleared his throat.

"Well," he drawled, "did you miss me?"

There was an instant room wide shuffling and coughing fit and then Seth bolted up from his chair and leaned forward as far as he could over his desk.

"Yes," he told his hero, "we were kind of scared you might not come back!"

And Ed smiled because he couldn't help it and the rest of the class seemed to snap out of their trance and the room became a hub bub.

"If I never have to read another text book lesson it will be to soon," Daniel informed him indignantly. "If you're gonna take vacations in the middle of the semester at least leave someone in charge who can do alchemy!"

"I'm terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you," Ed said dryly, "I will try to remember that the next time I want to lay around on my couch and recover from the lot of you for a couple of weeks."

The rest of the day was catch-up, mostly for the professor. He informed them he wanted to make sure they hadn't been given erroneous information while he was away and they informed him that if there was erroneous information it was all in book form and it wasn't their fault. The professor said they'd gotten an attitude while he was gone and they told him that the attitude was due to the fact he'd trained them all to be highly suspicious and they had a bit of a glare off after that, followed by a pop quiz on all their supposed book smarts.

**

He lingered in the hallway outside the general's office after his classes were through for the day. A few soldiers passed him, giving him curious looks and well he couldn't just stand out here because he knew the general was expecting him. Besides, the right Roy was usually the only Roy at the office. The other Roy seemed to be kind of like the right Roy because he never wanted to show up for work. So he took a deep breath and he went in; he passed the outer office personnel with a nod and opened the door to the general's office proper, slipping in and shutting it behind him.

The general looked up at him and smiled immediately.

"How was it?" the General asked, he seemed eager for the report and Ed couldn't help but smile back.

"It was fine," Ed said with a wave of his hand, moving over to one of the sofa's in the middle of the general's office, "they weren't to warped, nothing a little intense recapping can't handle."

"That is excellent news," the general said, lifting a stack of papers to jog them together before returning them to their folder. "We can't have you getting rusty, now can we?"

"Is that suppose to be a joke?" Ed returned. "Haven't we talked about redundant humor, your dependence on it and how we were going to break that habit?"

"Such a harsh master," the general murmured, moving on to the next folder. "Do you know what I'd like to know? How this promotion did me any good? Do you see this mess?" he made a sweeping gesture at his desk of the folders piled there. "I don't remember other Generals having to deal with this."

"Oh boo hoo," Ed said and did a mock swipe at mock tears, "so mistreated. It's called work, the rest of us have to do it so you do, too." And he grinned at his lover because this was his lover and he was there to grin at; it made him feel he wanted to stay here in this office day and night and not have to go back to whatever that was that lived in the house with him.

As if on cue, because despite all scientific evidence to the contrary, Roy activated his mind reading capabilities and sourced out Ed's internal quandary; as he had earlier in the morning. And he seemed to think this was a good setting to bring it up again.

"Now that you've re-established the fact you are needed and missed by your class; can we please talk about what's been bothering you these last couple of weeks?" the general prodded. "Don't tell me it was your return to the Academy, we both know that might have been part of it, but that was not the real reason. I know you to well, Edward; I'm rather insulted you seem to think I can't tell when something is truly upsetting you."

Ed shifted on the couch, rubbing his thighs and looking away from the general. The truth was, the plain truth was he needed to talk to Roy about this. He needed Roy's insight and Roy's guidance and he'd come to realize that Roy was a huge pillar of his support structure and the need to talk about this to Roy was insanity. Because if he talked to Roy about this, then other Roy could hear it, too, and then what?

The general rubbed his palms together and then rubbed his fingers down either side of his nose.

"Ok, if it's not something I've done, then it's something you've done and don't want to tell me about?" he ventured.

"NO," Ed said loudly. "Quit being so damn pushy, why are you so damn pushy all the time?"

"Maybe because I have to keep running into the brick wall of Ed," the general growled. "We have come to far to handle situations like this; so, tell me what is going on? I'm tired of dancing the issue and rather everything be out in the open."

"Let me concede a point," Ed said slowly. "What is going on is going on with you. But it's not really with you and I don't know how to explain that to you," he raised his eyes to the general's, gave a short nod. "But it's not something you, yourself, have done. It's more what's being done in your image."

"My image?" the general said, looking confused.

"I told you, it's not something I can readily explain," Ed said. "But, you have to trust me on this. I will make it right, I promise, just give me some time with it, ok?"

They both started and turned at the sudden tap on the window behind Roy's desk. After all, Roy's office wasn't exactly on the ground floor and so window tapping usually meant bird suicide. Roy usually tried to be stoic about it, but Ed knew the general fed the birds and took each bird splat personally.

This tap however was not bird related and Ed was off the couch before he knew it, shoving by Roy who was trying to get out of his chair and throwing open the window to stare out at the person holding onto the window ledge.

"I tried your house first," the grinning lunatic said, "then the academy and when you weren't at either location I only knew of one other place you might be. I am here, at your summons. I have traversed many desert miles at a pace that speaks of my eternal and undying wish to do your bidding. Even though you made it clear that what was never to be will never be do you not see my devotion even in rejection?"

Ed put his hand over the prince's face and shoved him back, making him lose his grip on the window ledge.

"EDWARD," the general shrieked in alarm behind him, grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him aside to lean out the window and look down.

Ling Yao, Xingian Prince, stood on the manicured lawn below, he raised a hand to give the general an uncertain wave.

"What?" Ed snorted, "We're only three stories up."

**

They all sat around a small table in a small cafe with small dishes and small cups and small plesantries. Both the general and the prince kept looking at him in significant ways, but he couldn't really respond to any significance while both of them were there; so he just sat and wished his slice of cheesecake was about three times the size it was at the moment.

"I'm glad that Edward's enthusiasm at your arrival didn't do you any actual harm," the general said, lifting his small cup, but hesitating with it before it reached his lips. Ed thought this was perhaps there was a certain level of risk with such a small cup, like a swallowing and choking hazard.

The prince bobbed his head, messing with some small bun thing with a itty bitty fork that looked like it was made for a little girl's tea set. It only had three prongs, too, and Ed thought that was hoity and pointless. Forks should look like forks.

"I'm actually very pleased that Edward is so concerned with my training that he continues to test me, even after we've been separated for a long while," the prince said. "I hope my ability to escape serious injury and death after being shoved off a three story ledge gives him the confidence that my skills are top notch."

"Did I hear you say that Edward invited you?" the general said, finally deciding to chance sipping from the tiny tea cup. "He didn't mention it to me."

Ed kicked Ling under the table. He kicked him hard and hoped there was loads of significance in the kick; but at the last minute he used his flesh foot instead of his automail one, to cut the prince some slack. Ling had a knack for being on the up side of things even if he wanted everyone to think there wasn't anything going on behind those slanty eyes and fox like grin.

"That would be my very wishful thinking," the prince said flawlessly, cleverly masking his wince of pain by wrinkling his nose at the bun on his plate. "I know better than to think that Edward might actually wish for me to visit and commander all his time. Which is why I'm here to do exactly that! I have some papers you see, very officious, xingian stuff," he waved his hand. "Someone needs to read them, and since I _am_ visiting royalty I'll be needing some sort of escort?" And he looked between the general and Edward hopefully.

Now it was Ed's turn to make this charade look good.

"NO, I'm busy! I've been away from my class for over two weeks and there is no telling what went on in my absence! I'm sure they have all sort of misguided ideas and I am going to dedicate myself to righting ever wrong spoken to them over that time," Edward huffed.

"Hmm, he has a point," the general said.

No, no, no, that's not good. Roy was suppose to give in to Ling's wishes and make sly innuendos about how he could make Edward do what Ling wanted him to do despite Edward's own wishes. How fucking ironic was it that _now_ the bastard didn't want to cooperate?

Well there was that little matter where Roy caught them kissing that one time... but that had been resolved, they'd move far beyond that. Edward had made sure that Roy knew, without doubt, that their relationship could stand the test of temptation and time. So, that shouldn't be an issue. With a sick twist of his stomach, he had another thought.

Maybe the other Roy was suspicious for some reason.

"How about I only monopolize him for lunch while I'm here?" the prince asked. "That way I'm not really interfering with his school time or his evenings." Ling must be thinking of the caught lip to lip episode, too, Ed thought.

"Well that's up to you, Edward," Roy said, having successfully drank the tea in the tiny cup without actually swallowing the cup. "If the prince does need a escort I can assign someone from my office," and the general looked at the prince and the prince did a sheepish grin and hunch of his shoulders, "but if you want to have some time with him while you're here, that sounds reasonable."

"How the fuck did you learn reason?" Ed asked Ling, leaning toward him. "I seem to remember reason wasn't in your repertoire the last time you were here."

"Blame Ranfan," the prince snorted into his own tiny tea cup, sloshing half the tea out, "the woman is unreasonably hard to deal with in the matters of my own reason and discretion. Since returning to our country she went and got all ambitious with this grooming for the throne thing," the prince downed the tea that was left, "you'd think she really thought I'm make an good Emperor or something."

The general chuckled and Ed shook his head.

The prince slapped the tea cup down in it's tiny saucer and jumped to his feet.

"That being said I will go to my rooms and order room service so I can have a proper meal," he said cheerfully. "Professor, I'll meet you on the steps tomorrow, you can take me to that place we use to go to with that red meat sauce you adore," the prince said.

"Yeah, ok," Ed said, perking up a bit, "that's fine."

"General," the prince said to Roy and bowed a bit to him. Then he gave Ed a wave instead of a bow and turned to stride quickly from the table. Ed thought it was kind of abrupt, Ling was a lingerer. He lingered over any food hoping to either get more food or someone elses food when they weren't looking. Maybe it was because Ed had already eaten his cheesecake and the general never ordered anything to go with his tea. He glanced up at Roy, about to make a comment when he caught the look in his eye.

It wasn't the general watching the prince retreat and before Ed could say another word, the Roy in the general stood and turned slowly to Ed and studied him for a long moment.

"You make very interesting friends," the general said, then the side of his mouth curled up a bit, sort of like a smile. "Shall we go?"

Ed could only nod, stand and follow the man home.


	8. it comes to roost

Ed saw him before he saw Ed. He was milling around, going up a step and down a step, arms folded and well frankly, for Ling, looking worried. That didn't sit well. He called out to him when he came to the top of the steps and started down and was surprised the prince hurried up the steps to meet him.

"Are you that much in a rush to get to lunch?" Ed said, hoping that was all it was but knowing it wasn't.

The prince seemed momentarily taken aback, but then he nodded.

"I wondered if it was you or fine amestrian cusisine I missed more," he said, reaching Ed, looking into his face. "After all, we have a lot of catching up to do." And Ling smiled in a way that didn't reach his eyes and Ed nodded.

"You have no idea," Ed said.

**

Havoc stood before the general's desk watching him go slowly, page by page, through a file. The general looked up at him as he reached the end.

"This is all we have?" the general questioned. "This seems very slip shod for our department. He's a foreign national after all. I would think we'd be more thorough."

"Um, yes sir," Havoc said, not sure what to say about his boss' new mood. "But he was serving in a diplomatic situation and he's friends with Ed...?" Havoc trailed off a bit when the general's eyebrows moved downward to form a 'v' between his eyes.

"That is no excuse for this obvious oversight," the general all but snarled and Havoc made his spine as stiff as he could get it. "I want this corrected Lt. Colonel, or we'll see how long you keep that title and that paycheck, am I clear?"

"Crystal," Havoc said quietly, then he took the file from the desk, turned on his heel and marched out of the office, pulling the door shut behind him. He continued down the hall for a few feet before coming to a stop and looking over his shoulder back toward the offices of the general. What the hell was that? What the hell just happened and what could the xingian prince have done to make the general want information on him so desperately?

It didn't feel right, the orders didn't sound right. The general never threatened any of them with his position, he never insinuated he would punish by withholding. The general would never look at him like that, either. But he had; it had just happened.

Either way, if this information was putting the general that much off his game, then it was probably very important. So he put his raw feelings aside and hurried off to do the man's bidding.

**

Alphonse was tugging gently at the back of his wife's uniform jacket. She glanced over her shoulder at him, finishing up her hair clip, then turned to move into his arms. She rested her hands on his shoulders and caught his eye.

"What is it?" she asked.

He dropped his eyes, but he looked resolute.

"I want you to be careful," he said simply. "I know it's not something I feel I should say to you; after all you are the epitome of careful observation. But we all have weak spots," and he raised his eyes to hers again. "I don't pretend for a moment that you could simply set aside feels for other men once you married me, so, I am asking you...be careful with him."

"Tell me everything you know," she said. "Everything you've discussed with your brother. Something has happened to make you come to me with this warning; and coming from you it's not to be taken lightly. So I'd like to be as well informed as I can be."

Al nodded, he stepped back, pulling her with him so they could sit on the edge of the bed.

"Something has changed in the General," he said. "It's a fundamental change, not something brought on by circumstances of the moment. When I look at him it's almost like he's fractured. His eyes are holding some agenda that they haven't before. It's very unsettling, even...even his speech pattern is different."

"Go on," Riza urged.

"When I met with him he looked at me in a way to perhaps calculate how I might be of use to him," Al said slowly. "I've seen him look at others this way; I've seen him size people up before he takes them down. I'm not use to being on the receiving end of this side of the General. Although I know he's capable and he's had to be ruthless in the past; I think I just perferred not to think about it."

She knew what it meant to be close to the man. To have his regard, his friendship, his love and his praise. She could hear the pain in Alphonse's voice. She laced her fingers with his, she squeezed his hand. Alphonse's relationship with Roy was ever bit as deep as that of his brothers. Roy, as he was for herself, had been an important prop and reassurance in Alphonse's youth. Alphonse was shaken by this admission and she could understand why.

Roy would never treat Alphonse this way; so Edward's fears had not been unfounded.

"What do you think we are dealing with?" Riza said softly.

Alphonse turned to look at her, he shook his head slowly.

"I'm not sure, there is something there, masquerading as the General. I don't have to even guess how this entity came to be, it was put there...," Alphonse reached up slowly, touched himself below his left eye.

"I guess the matter really becomes; how do we get it out?"

**

The prince was sitting across the table from him. They were in the back, next to the large glass doors that opened onto the patio for outdoor seating. They both had menus, and they both had the menus open in a pretense of choosing something for lunch. The prince paged through the menu, looking up at him between turns and seemed to be waiting for something. Ed had his menu open to the pasta entrees, but really he didn't even need to look at the menu. The epicurean rut he'd established with this restaurant was half a continent wide. If he were to order something different, there was no telling how that might shake the very foundations of the cook.

Funny how in the mist of all this nightmare, some things still held true.

Ling slapped his menu shut and sat back in his seat, craning his head around to look at the decorations.

"I don't know how to start," Ed said.

"That's obvious," Ling answered, reaching up to rub the side of his nose. "Your letter was provocative and inspiring, but not in the directions I'd hoped it would be. It also didn't mention anything about spiritual booby traps and murderous auras. Your home life must be fun. For this you gave me the heave ho."

Ed leaned hard over the table, and the prince leaned further back in his chair.

"It would be a real shame if you came all this way just for me to shove my automail through your face," Ed hissed. "Don't even think about starting that bullshit with me. Now, are you going to help me and tell me what the hell you mean by all that or am I going to feed you and then stuff you in a crate and ship you back to Xing?"

Ling held his hands up in placation. He made a motion to pat the air, then folded his arms and looked at Ed frankly, tilting his head to the side.

"You don't seem like a man who believes in things he can't see," the prince said.

"I'm willing to go out on a limb here," Ed returned. "But you're wrong. I _am_ seeing. I look at him and I see General Roy Mustang. I see the man I've known most of my life. And then? I see something else, something that wasn't there before. I see plenty, Ling. I just don't know _what_ I'm seeing."

The prince nodded, then rubbed the side of his nose again before speaking.

"You, me, this place, the world all share a common thread. We call it chi and it directs the flow of energy. It's generated by life. It connects all living things on a very base level. It is the blood of the dragon, which in essence is our world. That is a belief held by my people. Since we are children of the dragon, then by association we can read chi." The prince rubbed the tips of his fingers over his bottom lip, looking past Ed for a moment, before continuing. "Chi is a pure and simple feeling. When something beyond the pure flow is introduced into it's essence it can be detected. This would be things like very strong emotions, good or negative. Or corrupt energies, usually associated with demons. Don't look at me like that. Demons and divinity go hand in hand, you cannot have on without the other and hope to achieve balance."

"So where is all this leading, are you going to tell me the General is a demon?" Ed said, trying desperately to pull his shield of science about him as a way to justify rejecting this speculation even as he felt the tendrils of belief take hold.

"No, I'm not saying the General himself is a demon, because the General's chi is strong and pure," the prince said. "I'm saying that there is second spirit in the General's body and it's chi is very out of balance with his own." The prince held up his hands. "Demons," he raised one hand a bit higher than the other, "and divinity," and he raised the other hand so they were both level. "It's residing there because it's bringing a balance and I don't think the General can throw it off on his own. I'm no kind of expert in this you see," the prince folded his arms again, sliding his hands up into his sleeves. "But I know some, monks are usually handy for this sort of thing."

Ed put his fingers to his temples, pressed and rubbed in slow circles.

"You're telling me the General is possessed," he moaned. "That is the part I knew and didn't want to know; but now I have confirmation." Ed put his forehead on the table, right on top of the menu. "I feel very out of my league and I shouldn't. This should be a cake walk for me, after all I've dealt in _souls_ before."

"I didn't mean to be the bearer of bad news," the prince said quietly. "If it's any help, it's like he's split down the middle, a ying and yang. To the right is his light and to the left is his dark. Ying and yang is a reference to the male and the female, and the puzzling thing is, if I were to give demon spirits a gender, I would say the General is host to a woman."

Ed's head snapped up and he looked at the prince. He gave a half laugh and reached up to cover his left eye with one gloved hand.

"And here I thought I was happy he lost his eyepatch," Ed said and Ling lifted an eyebrow.

**

"The consulate was surprised to hear that the Prince was in Amestris," Havoc said quietly. He didn't like this, the more it went on, he really didn't like this. Sure the prince had been a pain the ass for lack of a better term, but he wasn't a threat. At least he didn't appear to be a threat and he was good friends with Ed; but not with the general it seemed. It was if the general harbored some grudge he didn't want to mention and the way he took the news seemed to give him a smug aura that simply radiated from his pores.

"Then we need to bring him in for questioning. If I'd known I would have detained him when he showed up here. He'll be with Edward, no doubt, and Edward is easy to track," the general said.

"Yessir," Havoc said, wondering if he should say something; finding he couldn't. The general was so different lately and he wasn't sure how to put a finger on it. He wasn't sure how to articulate it, either, without sounding insane. He could talk to Ed, but maybe Ed was to close to the source. But there were others who knew the man as well as Havoc thought he had that he could speak to.

**

There was a group of soldiers on the steps to the academy, but that was a normal enough sight. Fathers or elder brothers here to pick boys up after after-school activities was common enough. Ed was so immune to a blue uniform he barely gave them notice. It was when the group turned toward them as a whole that Ed noticed something was up. One of the group detached itself and started down the steps toward them and that is when Ed recognized it was Havoc. Since that in itself was unusual, Ed trotted up a few steps to intercept him.

"Lieutenant Colonel?" Ed asked as he approached, "What's going on?" He shifted for whatever reason to stand more in front of Ling who was now lingering at the bottom of the steps.

"Edward," Havoc said, trying to look past him to the Xingian prince, "I'm afraid we have to ask the Prince to come with us."

"What?" Ed half turned to look back at Ling, then around to look at Havoc again, "Why? I've been watching him all afternoon, whatever it is, he didn't do it," Ed tried to joke

"It seems he might be here illegally, his embassy doesn't even know he's in town," Havoc said. "The General wants him brought in," he then gave Ed a half smile and little shrug. "Don't look at me, you know if he says jump I have to say how high. It's in the soldier hand book."

"He's onto me," Ling said, from behind and below them, causing Ed to turn and look at him again. "Or she, rather; she kept looking at me the entire time we were taking tea with the General," the prince and gave Ed a shrug and helpless grin. "So, I think the appropriate thing I should do now, because I really don't think she and I would be good friends; is to flee." He templed his hands and bowed over them, then he turn and ran. Ed's mouth hung open a moment; but so did Havoc's. But Havoc was a man who was use to having to react and he shook it off quickly.

"After him!" Havoc yelled to the men behind them and they all began running down the steps, sounding like a steel toed stampede and Havoc made to join them as they rushed past.

"Wait!" Ed cried, trying to grab Havoc's sleeve, "What the fuck, Jean? It's Ling!"

"You think I don't know that?" Havoc said, wheeling on Ed. "You know, I think something has been going on and either you're not seeing it or you're not telling anybody."

Ed was taken aback momentarily, he wet his lips, opened his mouth to try and give some explanation even he could believe, but Havoc waved him off.

"Save it! I have to catch the Prince, I don't have a choice," he started down the steps, but turned back against as he got to the bottom. "You need to find a way to fill us in," he said with a look, then he, too, turned and ran in the direction of Ling and the soldiers.

Ed stared after him; not believing he wasn't as alone in this as he thought he was. Then suddenly grateful he really wasn't and not really knowing what to do. Havoc catching Ling was about as possible as Havoc giving up cigarettes and beer, so he wasn't really worried about Ling's impending incarnation.

But that Roy wanted him incarcerated? That was a big worry.

**

The General was standing with the phone receiver pressed to his ear when Ed came storming into his office. He cut a look at Ed that demanded silence and half turned away from Ed, head bent to listen to the voice on the other end of the phone line. Ed rushed the desk and slammed his hands on it, leaning toward Roy. Roy remained with his back half turned.

"Yes," Roy said into the receiver, "order out as many as you need from those here on the base. I'll let you know when to call it off," then Roy turned a bit back to Ed and narrowed his eyes at him. "He's right here, I'll have a few words with him. Report back in half an hour with progress." Then Roy lowered the receiver and rested it back in it's cradle on the phone, pushing it down slowly.

"What the hell is going on?" Ed said, struggling to contain his voice and volume. "Members of your squad just chased Ling through the parking lot of the academy."

"That's interesting," Roy said, looking down at the phone, his hand still resting on the receiver, "why do you suppose he's running?"

 _He's onto me; or rather she, she kept looking at me the entire time we were taking tea with the General_

"I don't know?" Ed said, and he had to do his damnest to sound convincing. "Did you find out something that I don't know about?"

 _I'm not selling you out Ling, I'm not_

The General narrowed his eyes a moment, then his looked smoothed out a little.

"It seems he may be here illegally, so, you'll help us find him...won't you? He's bound to come to you for help. We are, of course, not looking to prosecute him as such, merely want to inquire on why he felt the need to enter Amestris covertly," Roy moved to sit in his chair and looked at Ed expectantly.

"He'd be stupid to come to me," Ed said, shifting uncomfortably, "and he's far from stupid. I mean, there is you and me and you are the man out to get him. I mean he _knows_ that now, Havoc was leading the squad. I don't understand how you could be sitting in a cafe with him one day and wanting to run him down the next. If you had any suspicions why didn't you address them when you had him right there?"

"I trust you," Roy said, meeting and holding Edward's startled look. "He is your friend and by association I trust him. It wasn't until I returned to the office and made a casual inquiry did I find out the truth. Did... you know he was here without proper authorization?"

"No," Edward could say truthfully. "I didn't think about it; didn't even know to think about it. He won't come to me, he's smarter than that."

"We'll see," the general said.

**

Ed left the general's office and headed straight downtown toward the business district. Things were starting to come to close to home; as if bluffs were being called. He had to have an intermediary and hopefully Ling would have the same thought. But even as he had the thought, he had another more disturbing thought. What if he were being followed? Well it wouldn't matter, it would look like what it looked like; he was going to see his brother. But as his mind drew up the chess board, with Roy very firmly at the advantage, he couldn't help but wonder where to move his pieces.

Say he went to Al, and he and Al concocted a plan to communicate with Ling. If Roy decided he didn't really believe that Ed didn't know Ling's ulterior motives, then it would behoove Roy to have Ed watched and in turn have Al watched. This of course being played off for their own safety should this rouge prince try to compromise them. Ed could very easily hear Roy saying these words. That of course meant they needed a trust worthy go between far outside their circle. Ed strode into the building where Al worked, heading straight for the elevator going over in his head who they could possibly even ask to do something that could, in the long run, be very dangerous. And then of course how do they even get word to Ling to use this hence unknown to him person to trade information?

Think, think, think. It was what he'd done all his life and with so much hanging in the balance now he couldn't afford to let it fail him now. He glanced up as the elevator dinged, stepped into the empty car and leaned against the wall before stabbing the button. Who else in the city would Ling even trust now? He got out at the appropriate floor and nodded to Al's secretary distractedly. She ushered him in, closing the door behind him as Al stood from behind his desk to greet him.

"Things are happening," Ed said. "Not good things."

He proceeded to tell Al what had transpired, but before he went further he glanced around the room. Roy hadn't know of Ling's visit until today, so it was very unlikely he'd had time to eavesdrop on Al's office in some manner, even if he suspected Al might know that Ling was coming to Amestris.

Both he and Al slouched on Al's sofa and pondered how to go about things covertly when they were the least covert people they knew.

"Everyone would look suspect, and of course Riza can't touch this with a ten foot pole," Al said. "I can't ask anyone here, you can't ask anyone from work, they're all students..."

Ed chewed his lip. He ran back in time over all his past with Ling and all they'd done together while Ling was still an ambassador to Amestris... then he sat bolt upright and snapped his fingers.

"Otto Dunbar," Ed grinned.

"Otto?" Al said, incredulous.

"He and Ling had this thing, I'm not sure what it was but it was this thing and anyways, Ling use to visit him a lot _after_ he and I... yeah well nevermind. And Otto is ex-military so he should have some idea how to be stealthy or whatever it is you do when you want to be sneaky. But who goes to him? I can't, that would be to much, you can't, you're public enemy number two as far as Roy would be concerned. OHOH he has a niece in the steno pool! But I never talk to the steno pool and again, you can't talk to the steno pool. We need a girl to go talk to a girl, or at least carry a note," Ed threw himself against the back of the couch again in aggravation.

Al was looking at the door to his office.

"I know a secretary," Al said slowly.

**

The general attended a debriefing outlining the fact that two operatives were now known to be missing. It hadn't been apparent at first as one or both of them were usually deployed in a 'need to know' manner. Colonel Hawkeye was present, because she'd worked with one of the men in question. She kept glancing at the general throughout the meeting.

This might have to be dealt with.

Colonel Hawkeye approached him after the meeting, walking along behind his right shoulder as they made their way down the hall. She didn't seem willing to bring up the matter, and he offered no openings. As they neared his office she finally spoke.

"There was another disappearance, too," she said. "But he was a corporal and it's being treated as desertion."

"Is that so?" the general said, stopping and turning to look at her.

"I thought you'd want to know," she said evenly, not giving an inch. "You usually take internal matters very seriously for obvious reasons."

"It's a habit we've never broken, isn't it?"the general said.

"Yessir," she agreed.

"You are invaluable, as always," the general said. "Was there anything else?"

There was nothing else. Nothing she could fathom to say. All she could do was play this charade with a person she would never be false with. All she could feel was anger and betrayal and she couldn't even direct it properly for she couldn't even _imagine_ duplicity of this level from _him._ Not for him. Not from the pillar they all drew strength from; and if it was this unbalancing to her, how must it be for Ed?

"Nothing else," she said aloud, feeling as if it was a base lie.


	9. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

She was pretty as a picture. All dolled up in the traditional Xingese manner: hair piled high with all manner of accessories, high-collared dress that hugged her shape, complete with a fan she snapped open coyly and held in front of her face. She wound around the tables separating them like a serpent, and hesitated at his table, her fingers resting lightly on the back of the chair there.

“Seat taken?” she asked in broken Amestrian, her accent thick, and she batted her eyelashes and tilted her head to one side.

It was the most marvelous fraud imaginable, and the man there inclined his head and gestured with one hand.

“The honor is mine,” Otto Dunbar said.

She melted into it, sitting on one hip, elbow resting on its surface. She didn't lower the fan: instead she looked around the room once slowly. She rested her free hand on the table between them, and Otto, knowing the cues of this game even if he didn't play it, put a hand over hers casually and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. Her lashes lowered and she bowed her head closer to his and spoke in a whisper.

“All this padding is damned hot,” she said in a way she would not say it.

“You do this so well, it's almost like you were born to it; did you study the performing arts at all?” Otto inquired.

“It's a natural talent,” the not-so-she said, looking pleased and tapping the end of her not-so-her nose with her fan. “How sweet of you to say so, however.” And there was more eyelash batting.  
“Well, credit where credit is due,” Otto said. “Overall, it's masterful. We can only hope that should anyone be taking note, they aren't aware of my usual preferences.”

“Someone is watching us,” the prince who would be princess whispered. “Kiss my hand.”

“Is there really?” But Otto did as he was bid, lifting Ling's hand by the fingers, brushing the back of it lightly with his lips. “I feel rather you just want to continue the illusion in the most convincing form possible. You know we are here for a reason?”

Ling signed, looking off to the side, playing the fan to its fullest.

Otto lowered his hand back to the table, sat back and signaled a waiter. When approached, Otto ordered a drink from them both and when the waiter retreated he leaned toward Ling, who in turn leaned toward him, dropping the fan below his chin.

“Tell me, were our lives so complicated before we met Edward?” Ling asked.

“I think they were, this is just a new configuration,” Otto said. “I'm still impressed with your abilities at subterfuge. How did you know I would be in this locale? I came here to try and get information on how to contact you in the first place.”

Ling grinned then, snapped his fan closed and tapped his chin with it.

“The Xingese are a very close knit community,” he said. “It was just a matter of time before Edward realized you would be the most perfect liaison; I just kept you watched. There are benefits to being a Prince.”

“I have to confess I'm not as informed as I might like to be in this matter,” Otto said, still rubbing the back of the prince's hand with his thumb. “I have the ambiguous feeling you're going to tell me the less I know the better off I am,” he concluded. When Ling didn't immediately respond, the older man sighed. “Well, no matter.” He reached into an inner jacket pocket and produced a letter; he started to offer it to Ling, but the prince snapped his fan up again and narrowed his eyes.

“It won't look legit if I'm too easy,” he hissed from behind the fan, then he put his nose in the air and half turned away from Otto.

“Beg pardon,” Otto began, but then he seemed to catch on. “I see this is an establishment with service unseen. Very well, I suppose I should make it look like an sincere effort is being undertaken to woo you.”

“Only make it look like? I assure you I'm quite the catch,” Ling snapped his fan opened and closed with the precision of a professional. “When I get up to walk away, give me a few heartbeats then get up to follow me. You can catch me, press up against my back, be all manner of forward; anything for the theater,” Ling assured him.

“I'll keep that in mind,” Otto said with a slight, if strained, smile.

**

He sat with his elbows on the desk, the heels of his hands over his eyes. He had not moved for a good fifteen minutes. Ed didn't want to keep looking in on him; but he couldn't help it. Apparently, Roy was not oblivious.

“Yes, Edward?” He sounded tired, but patient, almost resigned.

“I'm just ... wondering what you're doing is all,” Ed said, feeling caught out and a bit defensive even if he shouldn't.

“You're hovering.”

“I'm not! Maybe a little, cut me some slack; you're being worrisome, so don't blame me.”

Roy lifted his head then. The skin around his eyes was red from where he'd been pressing his hands over, them and he looked at Ed and Ed knew it was Roy looking at him from his eyes – or well at least his eye – he'd learned to tell.

“I have a hypothetical scenario,” Roy said, pinning Ed with a look. “What if someone told you that for reasons known best to themself they thought they might be having some ... issues with reality?”

“Issues with reality in what regard?” Ed said, forcing himself to be casual, leaning against the door jamb in an attempt to force casual on his physical self, too.

“Let's say this person heretofore has always been a steadfast example of certainty. Say things like ... the paranormal would never even have come close to his speculative processes. Say this person is a person of directness in all things; but, of late, has had some inexplicable circumstances that they can't explain away easily.” Roy waved his hand dismissively, like this couldn't possibly pertain to himself.

Ed's stomach clenched into a single hard knot.

“For starters ,I'd say he was a complete dick for being so narrow-minded,” Ed managed to get out. “Any person, even one of a, uh, nature like the one you're describing, which I guess is a sensible nature? Or someone with a pole up their ass, being all stiff back and the like, needs to have an open mind; otherwise you're stagnant and you're not contributing properly to society.” Ed noted the scowl but ignored it. “Not to say I'm a proponent of paranormal ... wait a minute, I can't say that, can I? I mean, if I am then that is like denying most of my existence isn't it? What do we call all of that I went through back in the day? What was that? That was paranormal, wasn't it? That fits the bill, right?”

“But you're not seeing things that aren't there, jumping at shadows, having all the strange impulses and memories you're not even sure are yours,” Roy snapped.

“Are you?” Ed said quietly. Here was his chance, here was the opening, here is where maybe, just maybe he could talk to Roy. Find out what was bothering Roy, somehow _fix_ Roy. He wanted to say 'Tell me now! Do it quick before that other you, that you who isn't you, catches on and stops you!' But how could he say that without sounding insane? How could he say that and make Roy instantly know what he was talking about, make Roy cooperate, make Roy _know_ something wasn't right with Roy? 

Roy's mouth drew to a tight line as if he was going to say something he didn't like; as if he was going to confirm this here and now and then, finally, then they could figure this out and do away with it. But Roy was Roy and Roy liked to shield Ed from anything stressful, especially if Roy was the perpetrator of that stress, despite all the times that Ed had raged against it. 

“It's a hypothetical,” Roy said, like even he didn't believe it.

“So, hypothetically, are you?” Ed said, Ed tried again, Ed begged in not so many words.

And Roy looked away from him; Roy never looked away from him while they were having an discussion, an argument, an agreement. Roy loved him, trusted him and wanted Ed to do the same always; he always showed Edward what was in his heart by what he held in his eyes. Even if words didn't make sense, or didn't come, it was always there for Ed to see; Ed _knew_ that. It broke him from his lean on the door jamb, it moved him across the room to Roy's side and Roy turned his head, to look at him, but not his face and Ed tried to will him to say, to confess, to realize. 

“This is a stupid discussion,” Roy said quietly. “I don't know what possessed me to even bring up the topic.”

And Ed dropped to his knees, right there beside the chair, reaching up to grab the arm of the chair and Roy's eyes widened in surprise.

“It's not stupid, I promise you it's not stupid, just tell me. Just tell me, it's me, just tell me,” Ed pleaded. “It will be ok, just tell me. I can make it right, I'll make it right ...”

“Oncoming insanity is not easy to admit,” Roy said weakly, gave an even weaker smile, tried to make it light, make it nothing, make it a joke. “It's probably lack of sleep; all the strange things going on at the office. It's just exhaustion,” Roy said, voice gaining more control, convincing himself, at least, that's all it was, all it could be.

Ed put a hand on his arm, squeezed it lightly. What should he say? What should he risk? How much of Roy was in control, and did the other thing ever sleep? It must: here was as much of an admission that Ed was going to get from Roy.

“I know,” Ed said, looking at him hard, willing him to understand because he had to be careful of his words, he didn't want to wake it up. “I can tell. You've been not yourself lately.” his eyes searched Roy's face, looking for understanding, looking for dawning realization, “And I think I know why,” and Ed looked at Roy's eyes, most particularly his left eye. “Listen to me, don't interrupt, don't try to interpret or second guess me or say anything about this right now. Something is in there, something that was put there and I know how it was put there but not why. But I can find out, I can get it out and I'm going to get it out, just trust me. Just believe me. Just know this, keep this inside and don't think about it, don't dwell on it, just keep it there where you can get at it when I need you to, okay?” Ed kept his eyes on Roy's face the entire time. And Roy looked confused, he looked like he might interrupt, but he didn't. He just returned Ed's steady gaze and they sat there motionless and silent for long, long moments. 

“Now we're both properly insane,” Roy mumbled, and Ed let go of a breath and hung his head. Then Roy covered Ed's hand on his arm and squeezed. 

“But seeing as I have rank, power and more or less a hostage, neither of us are going to mention it outside this room again, are we?”

Ed's head snapped up and he looked at Roy. Only it wasn't Roy and now, and now it knew that he knew, too.

“Don't look so, you can still have it all Edward. I know all about once having it all myself. And I want you, don't think for a moment I don't. I can make it all right and wonderful, I can keep it just the way it is and no one will ever suspect a thing. You can still have your General and I can still have my country and I will still have _him_ , in a manner, through you. Really, he never realized how much I cared for him; but that will all change now.” And then it reached out with Roy's hand and pushed Ed's bangs back, it leaned in close with Roy's face like it might try to kiss him, and he jerked back, but it still held his hand with Roy's hand.

“Why all the fuss? It's still his body, he's just sharing,” it cooed in Roy's voice.

“Ling was right, it's a woman,” Ed said, speaking out loud even if he was speaking to himself.

“Can a spirit still possess a gender? I suppose it can,” Roy mused. “I was so caught up in the miasma of energies inside the gate I quite forgot about it; but now that you mention it, it's all rushing back. Now, let's talk terms. For your absolute obedience he gets to live, you get to live and I get to live. It's equivalent, I think, seeing as how I was so rudely robbed and dispatched. To be honest, though I had expected you'd figured it out, you had me worried for a bit. I was counting on your vaunted intelligence and was despairing I would have to keep this charade up for untold years. I'm actually happy to have it out in the open where we can work on being one big, happy family. I've always loved the idea of a big, happy family.”

He was numb, from head to toe. He knew how Roy felt, he knew now how the duality robbed him of his equilibrium, just as the impossibility of this situation was robbing Ed of his own.

“It's not equivalent, he had nothing to do with it, not directly, he got pulled into it,” Ed snapped. “That's not equivalence. What should have been equivalent was _me_ , I was there, too! Why him, why not me?!”

“Are you jealous?” Roy-not-Roy smirked. “Frankly, you don't have the stature in either position or body to have been worth the trouble. You don't think I would have bargained so mightily to merely settle for a teaching position? Do you know what sustained me? Do you? You might think it was revenge; but that's a petty and unsatisfying way to spend an eternity as an insubstantial nothing. No, what held me together, what's always held me together? Ambition. He and I are more alike than perhaps you'd like us to be. Really, I'm not going to be that much of an intrusion to your sensibilities. I'm just your type. I was just _his_ type, too, back then.”

Ed knew she didn't mean Roy.

“As long as we have the understanding that you will do as I say and I won't destroy him from within, everything will be fine,” and Roy-not-Roy patted his hand and released it and Ed rocked back and then got to his feet. 

“We have an understanding,” Ed said quietly.

“Good,” Roy-not-Roy said. “I'll give you a little reward for being so cooperative. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

And Ed watched. He saw the change in Roy's face, in Roy's eyes and it was Roy again. And Roy was looking confused and a little lost, but when he looked at Ed, his eyes were concerned.

“Ed,” he said, “Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

**

It was all he could do to focus, to answer any questions, to participate in his life such as it was at the moment. All he could really do was think back to this morning.

He was joined in the bathroom, as he usually was. There was Roy's body, getting ready for work, in his shirt sleeves and uniform pants. He was in the final touch ups. 

“I'm sure you have a lot of questions,” Roy said, and smiled at Ed's reflection in the mirror. “Please don't think you can't confide in me, Edward. You forget he's in here with me and he's just a font of information, especially on the topic of you.”

And Roy's body primped as it always did, fiddling with his bangs, just the right amount of cologne, checking his teeth.

“I can say I'm very pleased with this physical form, he takes excellent care of himself. Such attention to detail, a great deal of it for your benefit,” and Roy-not-Roy smiled at himself in the mirror.

“Please just stop, just stop talking to me like we have anything other than an understanding,” Ed grate out. “Please stop trying to make this comfortable. I want your ground rules. I want to know my limits. I'm assuming there will be no discussion with anyone, and I'm fine with that. I don't want anyone else in harm's way.”

“All that is a given. Oh, and deliver to me the Xingese prince,” Roy said with a smile.

“I can't, I don't know where he is,” Ed said, thankful that he really didn't.

Roy-not-Roy looked at him, and Ed met his eyes, and after a moment Roy-not-Roy tutted and sighed. “All right, very well, I believe you. I know that your brother already knows, keep him out of my way and keep his mouth shut and he and his lovely wife will be fine.”

Ed nodded. He busied himself with getting ready for work as well.

“This is going to be fine,” Roy-not-Roy soothed. “You'll see, it will all work out for the best.”

“Let me find you another body. Let me make you one,” Ed said, staring into the sink. “I'll risk it, I know the dangers, but let me try.”

“But this one is so perfect, I don't mind the gender,” Roy-not-Roy said, smoothing his shirt front.

“Let me try, you have to give me some hope I can get him back,” Ed continued. “You'll find me much more pliant if I'm occupied.”

“I find that the risk of losing you weighs very heavily; not entirely of my own volition,” Roy-not-Roy tapped his temple. “He can hear this and register it on the most base level you know, even if he doesn't realize what's going on.”

“You're all kinds of a fucking monster,” Ed said hoarsely.

“Oh, so rude. You're forgiven this time, now come along, we'll be late.” And with that, Roy-not-Roy left the bathroom and proceeded to finish his morning routine in time for coffee, while Ed tried not to throw up into the bathroom sink.

The ride to work was silent. Roy-not-Roy dropped him off at his usual spot and he got out without a word, or a kiss, or a promise of seeing Roy that evening: nothing. There had never been nothing before, and he felt empty and alone as he entered the building full of people. The rest of the day was like a puppet show: he spoke the lines he knew he had to speak and after class, he holed up in his office with the door locked and pretended he wasn't there. And he didn't want to be there; he didn't want to be anywhere. He didn't want to be in this life where there was no Roy, where there was nothing. He didn't want to make the walk over to HQ and play in this charade. But he had to, because what else did he have? If he didn't have Roy, then he had nothing. 

So he made the walk, eyes down, avoiding all around him that was once something, but at the moment was part of this nothing. He entered the office slowly and when Roy looked up at him and smiled, he knew in that moment there was something. It was Roy-Roy – and he looked glad to see Ed. Ed came in, felt himself smiling back; because it was Roy, it was his something. He glanced at the big table and Havoc was there, and Havoc was watching him very closely, and Ed knew he had to avoid that. He knew that Havoc knew something, they all knew something, how could they not? Roy had honed them into a unit that could move and think as one, even if he wasn't at the head. Ed sat pointedly on the couch with his back to Havoc and hoped Havoc took the hint.

“Well, hello there, Professor,” Roy said from behind his desk. “It's good to see you. I will try not to make you wait long. What should we have for dinner?”

And it made Ed ache, to his bones, for Roy to be there and be with him, knowing that there inside his Roy, his beautiful general, something else lurked and he knew it and he almost wished he didn't. He almost wished feverishly that he didn't. But then what would that be? A lie? An abandonment? He gave himself a little shake.

“I'm partial to anything, you know,” he said with a shrug, “so whatever works for you.”

“Well ,Havoc works for me, but I doubt he's palatable,” the general said, looking down at his paperwork again. On some strange idle level of his mind Ed noted that Roy-not-Roy seemed to dislike the paperwork as much as Roy-Roy, for he never found Roy-not-Roy doing it. Funny how even the mundane things attached to the man he loved more than life had a weird significance.

“Glad to hear it,” Havoc said from across the room, but Ed could feel Havoc's eyes on the back of his head. How could he do this? How could he hide this? Should he hide this? Should they know? Should they have the knowledge to defend themselves? He reached up to rub his face, and caught Roy looking at him.

“Tired?” Roy asked.

“Yeah,” Ed replied honestly. Tired, so tired that he just wanted to lay down and close his eyes and wait for this to go away.

“Well,” Roy said, picking up the stack of papers he had in front of him, tapping them to neaten them then putting them in his out box, “allow me to take you home where you can have dinner, a nice soak and an early night if you so desire. There was that program on the radio we always listen to, but that can wait as well.”

Ed nodded and stood, feeling like lead. He waited for Roy to get his things.

“Evening, Colonel,” Roy said to Havoc as he headed out.

“Evening, General, Professor,” Havoc said behind them as Ed turned to follow him.

“Night, Havoc,” Ed said, gave the man a half wave without looking at him and hurried after the general as he went down the hall.

The ride home was nothing like the ride into work that morning. Roy was full of news and gossip and he shared it, like he always did. He asked after Ed's day, Ed's students, what Ed had for lunch, what Ed thought they might do this weekend.

It was all so painfully normal.

“You must really be tired,” Roy said as they turned onto their street. “It's not like you to be so quiet all the way home. You're not coming down with something, are you?” Roy reached over to touch him and Ed stiffened in reaction then tried so hard to take it back, but he was sure Roy noticed because Roy's hand stopped before making contact and hovered before it withdrew. Before he could say anything to make it right, they were pulling into the driveway and Roy was shutting off the car and opening his door. Ed got out and plodded up the walk after him to be let into the house. 

R.D. hovered at the end of the hallway, then approached Roy cautiously, wagging his stump of a tail and sniffed at a boot. Roy tutted to the little dog, reached down to pet him and R.D. accepted it for a moment before darting to Ed with more enthusiasm. Ed knew how the little dog felt, knew the little dog had known long before the rest of them. Hescooped him up to carry him down to the bedroom, giving him scratches and coos to reassure him. Roy just watched after them, looking unreadable.

Ed was alone in the bedroom for a few moments. He set R.D. on his feet and decided to get into his house clothes for the rest of the evening. He was just taking off his shirt when Roy walked in. Once again he stopped, he hesitated, and he watched Roy, and Roy looked back at him with an expression that tore at Ed's heart. 

Roy tried to make light of it. 

“It's too late now, I've seen all the good bits,” he joked, but it didn't reach his eyes and he turned away almost as he said it.

Ed had to find a way to separate the two; he had to do it, there was no other way. He shucked the shirt off, dropped it and in a few steps he was against Roy's back, his arms around Roy's waist. Roy's hand moved to one of Ed's arms, and rubbed it as he was held.

It struck Ed that Roy wasn't questioning his behavior; Roy wasn't demanding answers about this sudden withdrawal, and then he _knew_. What she had said, that on the base level Roy _knew_ everything that was going on. He sensed why Ed was rejecting him even if he didn't know it logically and he wasn't questioning it, because Roy _knew_. He just didn't know that he knew.

And Ed ... Ed had to find a way to _use_ that.

Dinner was sandwiches, all made by Roy because Roy was the designated feeder of Ed, and they sat together on the couch with the radio on after. The silence was getting smothering. Ed scooted over until he was against Roy's side and Roy put his arm around him. Ed looked up and Roy looked down and smiled.

“I want tonight, just you and me,” Ed said.

Roy looked confused. “Was someone coming over?”

Ed just kept his gaze and said again, firmly. “Just you and me.”

And after a moment, Roy nodded slowly and Ed reached up to wrap his arm around Roy's neck, pull him down and kiss him, and then pulled him all the way down until he was lying on the couch with Roy mostly on top of him.

“I thought you were tired,” Roy murmured between kisses. Long, slow kisses that neither wanted to break even to breathe. 

“I'm in love,” Ed murmured back. “That means that no matter what, I want to be with you.”

“That makes me the luckiest man on the planet,” Roy answered back, then he wrapped his arms under Ed, sat Ed up, pulled Ed to straddle his lap, and Ed got his hands into that soft, thick black hair and he dragged his fingers through it as he kissed Roy and kissed Roy and never wanted to let Roy go again. It didn't matter, it just didn't matter that there was someone else, because there was Roy, and that's what Ed needed. It was true, he was in love, no matter what he wanted to be with Roy. And he had a plan. A plan that might make Roy think he was insane but a plan nonetheless. A plan to make Roy understand what was happening: what they were against, what they had to fight.

And that plan was: he would talk. He would talk to Roy even if Roy didn't realize what he was telling him because on some level Roy would realize, when it was important. Roy was brilliant and strong and even if Ed had nothing else, he had _faith_ , all placed in Roy. It had been for a long time. He wasn't going to give it up now. And he had another part of his plan: and that was learning all about chi, because he was sure in some way that the Xingese had a way with souls. And souls were energy, and energy he understood. So, he had to find Ling and he had to hope that Ling, despite being Ling, would know what to do. This all became a distracted jumble when Roy slid his hands into the back of Ed's loose house pants.

“We haven't fucked on the couch in a long time,” Ed said against Roy's lips.

Roy sucked at his bottom lip and answered, “No, we haven't.” And Roy sounded all breathless and a little excited and Ed arched forward to press himself to Roy's belly. Roy's hands were on his bare ass now and they were kneading, rubbing. He trailed a finger into the cleft, he brushed at Ed's anus and Ed's cock responded with a twitch and he had to rub it there, hard against the flat of Roy's stomach. Ed bunched his hands into the shoulders of Roy's shirt, pulled on it as he tried to capture Roy's tongue with his teeth.

“Can I have your shirt?” Ed asked after the second failed attempt One little too hard of a nip a long time ago and Roy was still teeth shy; it was really uncalled for, but then again Ed was teeth shy, too.

“Of course you can,” Roy said with that husky timbre that made Ed's toes curl. So Roy's shirt came off and Ed threw it over the back of the couch for Roy to pick up fussily later. In return, Roy started to work Ed's pants down, doing it somehow with his wrists as his hands were still firmly on Ed's ass. Roy was a man with magical get Ed naked abilities: it was a wonder. And Ed got to put his hands all over Roy's bare chest now and then settle his thumbs over Roy's nipples to rub in slow circular motions. This made Roy thrust his chest out and Ed responded in a macho manner even though no one was touching his chest. If there was chest thrusting going on, Ed always had to join in.

“I hope there is lube in the end table, you dirty old man,” Ed panted against Roy's lips. “But you always camouflage it and I can never figure it out.”

“It's that big, old, silver fountain pen,” Roy panted back. “I hollowed it out a while ago and rigged the trigger mechanism in the cap, really, it's brilliant.”

“If only your powers could be used for good,” Ed groaned back.

“Only the good of making you scream,” Roy said, going to the side of Ed's neck and Ed moaned and thrust into Roy's stomach: hard now, diamond.

Ed made a lean and a grab at the side table, yanking the drawer out dramatically and spilling most of it's contents on the floor and as usual Roy made a lust-filled tutting sound. Roy still had a thing for being neat even in the mist of heated passion and Ed would never get his head around that. But as miracle would have it, the pen was still in the drawer when Ed dropped it down beside them on the couch and after a grab or two, he got the pen and then put it between his teeth to clench, because Roy was no longer just fingering his anus, he was pressing and Ed had to place his hands on Roy's shoulders and lift and lower a little to that. Roy seemed to be watching this, amazed.

“One day we might have to try giving you a bit, that's extremely erotic,” Roy panted, “your jaw all clenched up like that.”

Ed spit the pen out. It landed between them and he scowled and snorted even as he lifted and lowered himself.

“I don't think so, Mr. Pervert,” he growled, then he moaned. “Maybe, I don't know, quit confusing one depraved sex act for another,” and he squeezed Roy's shoulders a bit and Roy ducked down his left shoulder and made that face he made when Ed's automail was involved, but to his credit he didn't whine this time. Ed had told him whining was unsexy.

“I have to heroically move one of my hands from your ass,” Roy panted. “My bravery in these situations is exceptional and I really think you should think about the bit as a reward for all the sacrifices I make to keep you satisfied.”

“You're talking,” Ed panted, “what have we talked about in the past about talking during sex? It was an unnecessary complication and it was completely unfair because while you are made of talk, I am made of action. We discussed this in length the last time you got chatty while fingering my ass, and you even agreed that it was excessive chit-chat, and now you're doing it again and it's a very bad habit,” and Ed wished his voice didn't get so high in times like these.

“If I don't talk while having sex then I have to save it up for after sex and you fall asleep.” Now Roy was whining. “I have to get in the good highlights while we're engaged and make you make promises you'd never make otherwise!”

“AHHA I _KNEW_ IT,” Ed yelled. “That's how I ended up with the maid uniform, it's all a trap, it's always been a trap! Use the lube already and do something and trap me some more!”

Roy jerked one hand off Ed's ass, fumbled for the pen, then he had to pause and demonstrate the pen to Ed so Ed would be impressed, but Ed tried to bite one of his fingers off,. “Fine,” Roy said, “I'll just make a mental note to get you to congratulate me on my genius later. You really get mean when you're horny.” Roy placed the pen back in the drawer once it's usefulness was over and Ed made that cute little high whine through his nose when Roy's hand returned to its previous location. Now there was pressing and penetrating and Ed slammed hard into his stomach, then sat hard on his hand, trapping it against his legs.

“I can't move like this and my fingers are all cramped,” Roy said.

“Shut up,” Ed growled. “I've had it with the yapping, now it's the doing.” And doing was what Ed did, he began to move himself, up and down and back and forth and Roy made interesting faces, but didn't mention his hand again, probably for fear Ed would pick on him some more. But it was clear this wasn't enough, and Ed shoved Roy hard against the couch by his shoulders and got right in his face.

“Okay, here is what we are going to do,” Ed hissed and Roy nodded with eyebrows raised, looking as if he was nervous for his jugular vein. “I'm going to lift up some and you work that fucking magic you have and get my pants off, or at least one leg,” Ed instructed with a hissing growl, “then, when that's done, you get your cock out and you hold it steady and I am going to sit on it and you are not going to make it difficult or try to draw it out or any other of your bullshit foreplay that I love,” Ed snarled. “Have you got that, soldier?”

“Yessir,” Roy mumbled, looking impressed and intimidated. “Just let me shift my arm a little, then you sit up and pull up your right leg...sir.”

“That's what I'm talking about,” and Ed did as instructed and through Roy's magical talents he was able to free his right leg from his pants and boxers and Roy did it as if it was nothing and not once did he remove his hands from Ed's ass. It was a sex on the couch night miracle.

“How did you do that?” Ed panted. “You need to teach me ...”

“I thought this was do and no more yapping,” Roy barked, apparently deciding he outranked Ed and seeing if he could get away with outranking Ed. Ed looked startled, then closed his mouth and looked at Roy for further instructions. 

“Now I'm going to lift up a bit and you are going to push my pants down in front and free my cock and you can take your time holding it or rubbing it if you want,” Roy instructed. “Then _you_ mister, not me, are going to hold it steady and sit on it while I guide you with my well-placed hands. I don't want to move them, you got that?”

Ed grinned. “Yessir,” he said. He looked at Roy expectantly, so Roy raised his ass a little from the couch and Ed quickly worked his pants down just enough to get his cock free and Ed gripped it tightly and they both looked at each other and grinned.

“Military precision,” Roy gasped.

“No, you're just a talented pervert,” Ed returned.

“Either works,” Roy confirmed, then he eased his fingers out of Ed's ass and lifted him a bit. Ed had one hand on Roy's shoulder and one hand on Roy's cock, and he was looking down between them as if trying to gauge aim and Roy tutted.

“Just start sitting, it will be easier, you can use my hands as a guide,” Roy said.

“Look, you worry about your part, I'll worry about mine,” Ed snorted. “You got to play boss, so shut up and let me work this out.”

“I slicked you up from back to front,” Roy stressed, “it should just slide right into place.”

“Quit being a toppy bottom,” Ed growled, “even if you're the one going in on the mission, you're on the bottom. I can do this, haven't we done this before?”

“Yes and I remember being bent in ways I'm not supposed to bend,” Roy said. “That hurt; maybe I should be lining you up.”

“What is it about you and a little pain? You're such a girl sometimes. I made it better, didn't I? Hold still.” And Ed started to lower himself.

“You're too far to the right,” Roy offered and then hissed when Ed jerked his cock. “There is no way that was accidental,” Roy complained.

“Maybe I should just pull it off and put it back when I get finished,” Ed threatened. Then he sat and it was a little too far to the right, and Roy yelped and Ed lifted back up quickly. “It's your fault for distracting me!”

“Let me do this,” and Roy removed one hand from Ed's ass and made to grab his own cock, but Ed still had a hold of it and they glared at each other for a long moment. “Give me my cock,” Roy ordered.

“No,” Ed said, “during sex it's my cock, we agreed. In fact all parts of you are mine, I have it on a napkin somewhere, I kept that, you know, it's like a deed!”

“No court would hold me to a half -runken scribble on a napkin,” Roy argued, “although knowing you kept it is endearing and sways me in your favor.”

Ed started to sit again, and Roy made a noise and shifted a bit to the right, and Ed let him, and then they paused as the head of Roy's cock pressed at the opening of Ed's anus.

“Victory is ours,” Roy said, his voice dropping and his hand returning to Ed's ass.

“Victory is ours,” Ed agreed and leaned in to close his mouth over Roy's as he pressed down until he was seated in Roy's lap.

Roy made a noise into Ed's mouth, his fingers dug into Ed's butt cheeks and Ed moved, lifted himself, thrust himself forward to rub his erection on Roy's stomach and then lowered himself, letting Roy fill him again. This was why life was worth living. He ran his hands back into Roy's hair, dug in and hung on and Roy shuddered against him, beneath him, inside him and Ed could only move again. And that is how it went, with varying increases of speed and breathless sounds. Roy finally pulled his hand away from Ed's ass again only to claim Ed's cock and it was Ed's turn to shudder from head to toe; to try to pull Roy's hair out, to make an amused sound into Roy's mouth as he whined, to love this man, live this man, being one with this man as much as he could. His whole life spent in this man's embrace was more than he deserved and the only thing he ever wanted. When the climax came, Roy pressed them tightly together, cried out with Ed and held him as they both trembled. And Ed, in the rare position of being as tall as Roy, pulled Roy's head to his shoulder, held him there and Roy pressed his face against the side of Ed's neck. 

“You never had this,” Ed said, his voice just above a whisper. “This isn't how it was for you, and I'm sorry, but you're not going to take it away from me.”

“What are you talking about?” Roy murmured against his neck.

“Life and how to live it, hush, just let me talk,” Ed said. “You don't have any idea of the fight you have on your hands.”

“Was the sex so good that you're addled?” Roy said, sounding amused. “I love this position.”

“He belongs to me and I take care of what is mine,” Ed continued. He felt Roy run a hand up his back and just rub him.

“He's mine, no matter what,” Ed finished, then pulled back, looked into Roy's sleepy eyes. “I think you forgot what it was like after so long. Maybe you became less than human, no matter what you wore; but he will never be, he will always be this and we will always have this. No matter what.”

Roy didn't question him, only looked at him and Ed stroked his face, ran a thumb over Roy's bottom lip. They just kept looking at each other for long moments.

“Let's sleep here,” Roy finally offered. “Or can you carry me to bed? I'll pay you.”

Ed just grinned and tipped their foreheads together.


End file.
